Better Days Will Come
by Kegel
Summary: A twist of history and an unexpected offer give Robin new opportunities in his fight for both his people and country. It also brings new dilemmas, as he and the gang have to make hard choices to find their way when conflicts come to a head.
1. Winter

**Better Days Will Come**

**By: **Kegel

**Summary: **A twist of history and an unexpected offer give Robin new opportunities in his fight for both his people and country. It also brings new dilemmas, as he and the gang have to make hard choices to find their way when conflicts come to a head.

**Disclaimer: **Anything you recognize I do not own.

**Spoilers: **Up to mid-season 2.

**Rating: **T

**A/N: **This is a sequel to_"Affirmation"._ Thanks to _Emmithar_ for the beta! :)

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**Chapter 1: Winter **

The mud under his feet was frozen. It was sometimes difficult to even tread on the ground, as the hard and uneven crust covered with a layer of slippery ice made it almost impossible for his feet to find a steady hold. He'd moved through the forest as far as he could, where only thick layers of snow kept him from coming along quickly, but it had proven yet more difficult once he had left the woods behind, already frozen to the bone then.

They had avoided these kinds of trips as much as possible, but Robin had decided that he simply had to go and check on the villages today. The weather was not all too bad this afternoon, the conditions that made it hard for him to move along more the result of the previous harsh weeks that had switched between heavy snowfall and short periods of thawing, causing the top layer of snow to melt and then freeze again as slippery ice.

Several weeks ago, shortly before Christmas, the gang had almost been forced to give up their camp. Will had suggested some emergency measures, and with the help of all they had managed to make the camp safer and warmer, enabling them to stay there after all. Robin would not really have known where else to go. There was still the cave where they had spent the harshest days and nights of the previous winter before Will had built the camp, but they were not prepared to go there this time, as they had not stocked up on wood and food there. They had too little of the latter in any way.

So it had been a relief to be able to stay at the camp, as miserable as they still were during these winter days. They had started to ration what little food they had, and everyone was suffering the consequences. Much had found new ingenious ways to cook what he promised to not be squirrel. Robin even believed him, knowing that the animals were in their winter dormancy right now and would hardly be caught by a hungry outlaw. But then he supposed that squirrel wouldn't have been that bad after all.

They had hardly been able to stock up in the autumn, neither the stocks at the camp that were for their own use nor the ones that were supposed for the peasants in the villages. Harvest had turned out badly, at least around Nottingham, as the taxes of the sheriff had robbed many of the peasants of the means to even cultivate enough food to make ends meet for their families, far from having enough left over to sell it.

It was well into the afternoon when Robin tried his best to slip into Locksley unnoticed. It was an odd feeling to try and not be seen in the village of his childhood days. He hadn't even been that careful right after becoming an outlaw, when Gisborne had taken over the manor for his own instead of a supposed stewardship for Robin. But after what had happened in the autumn, Robin still felt uncomfortable, especially now as he was hardly able to help the peasants at all.

Will had told him that there was no need for the discomfort. The young man went openly into the village when neither Gisborne nor any of his minions were around. He had encouraged Robin, had informed him that he had spoken with the villagers, and even those that he did not know closely he believed to be convinced of the outlaws' goodwill, no matter what the sheriff or Gisborne were saying.

Now that he was in the village, Robin was not even sure what he wanted to see there. They all knew how hard the winter was and they had estimated a long time ago that food would be more than scarce. He didn't see many people around and it was no surprise in the weather conditions. Only those that had to work outside were doing so now. Most had retreated into their small houses, busying themselves with housework that occupied the peasants during the winter months.

Robin tried to keep moving. The cold had long made its way through his clothing and the snow wasn't helping either. As he moved around another house, he rubbed his cold fingers that had become numb and stiff by now. He grimaced, wondering if he would even be able to string his bow at all, if it proved to be necessary. So far he had not met any trouble, but one could never be certain that it remained this way.

For now everything seemed to be peaceful. It wasn't a bad thing. Robin disliked that he wasn't able to do anything for Locksley right now, the gang having no food or money left over to give to the people, but if there was any other trouble, Robin would still be ready to help, the outlaws not far away at camp, in case he needed back-up.

Then he stood in front of the manor building. He had no idea if Gisborne was there, or if the man was away to cause trouble in Nottingham. Robin walked slowly around the house, wondering if it wasn't time to go back to camp, considering how cold he already was now. Much would probably scold him, once he was back. Robin smiled at the thought.

At this moment someone came out of the house and Robin skirted around a corner, pressing himself against the wall. The icy wind blew around the house and Robin shivered, listening for steps that might be coming towards him. He realized two things at the same time: the snow would dull any sounds as well as betray the fact where he had gone. Then a man stepped around the corner and Robin was about to retreat when he heard his name being called.

"Robin?"

"Thornton." It had taken Robin a moment to recognize the form of the man against the light of the gray sky and the snow.

"Now, Robin, what brings you here at this day?" The man looked at him closely. "You have to be cold."

Robin grimaced. He did not have a good reason to give for his presence apart from wanting to see Locksley.

"Of course you are cold, always being outside," Thornton shook his head. "Why don't you come in? The master is not here and won't be back today."

Robin shook his head quickly. "I cannot."

The other man looked at him grimly.

"Is everyone well?" Robin asked, moving forward to indicate that he would be leaving soon. He wouldn't keep the old man outside for very much longer.

"As good as they can, under the circumstances," Thornton answered carefully. Robin nodded, looking away from the man's gaze. He still regretted the loss of the supplies they had hoped to gain in the autumn. "You are looking thin, too, Robin, more so even than usual."

Robin did not feel like telling the man about it. The villagers surely had worse problems than the outlaws.

"Robin," the old man spoke again and the outlaw met his gaze. "Wait here. I will go in and get you some of the dry meat we have in the storage. And some fresh bread."

"No," Robin shook his head slightly. "Don't trouble yourself with me. Give what you can spare to the people. We'll manage." He knew he was not speaking the complete truth, aware that they could well need what was offered, but how could he accept it when the peasants were going hungry at the same time?

Thornton stepped towards him, still looking at him concernedly, laying an arm around Robin's back. "Then come at least in for a moment."

Robin paused, but then nodded quietly, figuring it could not hurt to accept the wish of the old man. Nor would it do him any ill to step out of the miserable weather. Minutes later Thornton had seated Robin inside the house, assuring him once more that neither Gisborne nor any of his men were at Locksley. The old man left then and Robin feared that he was doing what the outlaw had declined earlier.

Minutes later Thornton returned and carried a bowl that came with a promising smell. Robin's reflex was to refuse any of it, but he checked himself. The man wanted to do him good; who was he to refuse the man's work now? And he was hungry…

Once Robin had started eating, the man left again and came back moments later with a few logs of wood that he put into the small fire that had already been burning in the fireplace, enticing the flames to grow, warmer the room even more.

Robin was grateful, although he had a hard time to express it towards the man. Thornton had managed well to lead the household under Gisborne's possession. He called that man master and Robin wondered privately whether he cared for Robin only for old times sake or because he considered him still the true lord of the manor.

Robin couldn't deny that he missed his family's home. He hadn't lived there for five long years. At first time he had not been longing for the home that he had eagerly left for the war in the Holy Land, but later he had been thinking about it often times, wishing he was back in Locksley, back in England. Returning home had been a blessing, the manor hardly changed from when he had last seen it, contrary to the village that surrounded it. His return, however, had not proven to be permanent.

He could not regret what he had done that had caused him to lose his home for good; otherwise Will and Allan, as well as Will's brother Luke and another Locksley peasant would long be dead. Even if he had let the men die back then, keeping still under the sheriff's regime for now, trying to stabilize his position, as Edward and Marian had advised, he doubted it would have taken long before another conflict with the sheriff would have arisen. Robin didn't even want to consider it possible that he would have managed to live and govern alongside of Vaysey. The only way it would have been possible was if he had come to accept the man's cruel ways.

Though the soup warmed him, it was replaced with a uncomfortable feeling, mostly of guilt as he thought of the others back at camp. He had refused to take Thornton's offer of provisions that would have helped them all, but instead had readily accepted the offer that only benefited him.

Thornton once again came back into the room, carrying a bundle. He placed in on the table in front of Robin. The outlaw could smell the fresh bread.

"Thank you."

"We are doing what we can for the people, Robin," Thornton assured him, but Robin was not certain the man's words meant that it was enough.

He would only be able to do what Gisborne allowed him to do. People had died of starvation during Robin's years of absence in the war. Gisborne had not stopped that, had probably not been willing to, being the right hand man of the sheriff who was largely at fault for what was happening.

"They don't blame you, Robin," Thornton said suddenly and Robin looked up from his pondering.

It was still a question what many of the people in and around Nottingham thought. The sheriff had managed to spread the story of the outlaws being to charge for the destruction of a large delivery of supplies that had been intended for Nottingham in the autumn. People had indeed blamed Robin and he remembered the bitter happenings of then only too clearly. He had told himself many times that it was only the desperation of the people that had been the cause, a desperation that was well justified in the circumstances. Now he was still empty-handed, couldn't do much to gain their trust back. Locksley was certainly the place that still stood behind him the most; Will having good connections to the people and the villagers knowing Robin from his youth, knowing they could trust him.

"Where is Gisborne anyway?" he asked then, trying to banish the gloomy thoughts.

"The master has gone to Nottingham." Thornton stood beside the table, looking still earnestly at his former master.

Robin gritted his teeth, wondering what Gisborne was up to in town. The sheriff surely had business for him, but then Robin could also imagine that the man was off to woo Marian again. He hadn't left off that at all.

Robin hadn't seen Marian in weeks, but when he had paid a short visit to Nottingham before Christmas, the gang handing out the last of the money they had to give, she had told him that Gisborne was still not letting her out of his sight for much of the time he was in Nottingham. Robin figured that Marian wasn't even telling him everything. She had never avoided the presence of the man as much as Robin would have recommended, but then he had thought Gisborne burning down her home had shown her well enough what kind of man the Master-at-Arms was.

"Anything else he has been up to?" Robin asked, gloomy once again.

"You have heard the news, I am sure?" the old man started in a somber voice. Robin froze, his mind racing as to what bad news the man was about to bring him. Surely Marian was alright?

"What is it?"

"I do not know when you were last in town," the man went on. "The news arrived only some days ago. It is what has caused the master to be away for so long."

Robin listened silently, impatient to hear what the man had to say. The gang had hardly heard anything at all from either the town or the villages during those last dark weeks.

"I was sure you had heard about it, Robin. A message arrived concerning King Richard. I figured that was why you had not been here recently."

Robin frowned. There were many reasons as to why he had not been seen in the villages, but it was not the time to discuss them. He felt himself tense, knowing that whatever was said could well contain the future of both England and his life as well.

"The King, he left the Holy Land last autumn," Thornton went on. "I'm sure you've heard of the Duke of Austria, Leopold. According to the message that was received in Nottingham, the Duke imprisoned King Richard while the man was on the way to the lands of Henry of Saxony."

Robin could not quite believe his ears at first. "The Duke took the King captive?" His mind was racing as to the implications of it. Richard had left the Holy Land. He had been on his way home. And now...

"The present whereabouts of King Richard are not known yet."

"When did it happen?"

"Shortly before Christmas, as far as is known," Thornton replied. "It is all I can tell you, Robin. If Sir Guy knows more then he did not say so. It was all I could learn, for he seemed to be in a festive mood at the time. And you know that it is not my place to ask him about these matters."

Robin nodded gravely, his mind pondering the news. There was a whirlwind of different thoughts and emotions. There was the brief wondering as to how the sheriff had managed to arrange that feat, a thought that was quickly pushed aside as crazy – Vaysey might be able to send Gisborne to the Holy Land to try to kill the king, but he had no way of giving orders to the Duke of Austria.

There was hope as well because the king had finally left the Holy Land, hope that the captivity, as outrageous as it was, would not last long and Richard would finally make his way home then. There was worry too, though, that after all the waiting for the king to return, all the fighting they had already done to defend the people, it would still have to go on for an undetermined period of time.

Sometimes, in good times, Robin had sworn to himself that he would go on to fight from the forest for years to come, if necessary. In times like these though, when he had nothing to give to the people, when even the outlaw's barest survival was at stake simply by the laws of nature, the outlook of many more years of fighting to come was more than bleak.

One thing he knew was that he had to learn more details about the news he had received from Thornton. He'd have to go to Nottingham. Marian surely would know more about it and if he kept his ears open, he might be able to gather more information as well. He still did not like the outlook of walking through the town's marketplace, but he would come as he had often done, concealed beneath his hood and a few extra layers of clothes in these weather conditions, and he would sneak up to Marian's chamber and nobody would even take notice of him.

He left Locksley shortly after, the bundle of food Thornton had provided for the gang under one arm. Much surely would be glad to see it. Maybe he would not even argue anymore about Robin going to the village alone, understanding that it would have been unlikely that Thornton would have risked sneaking the entire gang inside. Robin shook his head. It had once again started to snow and the sky was slowly turning dark. As he stepped through the accumulating white, Robin pondered the gravity of what he had learned at Locksley Manor.

King Richard had left the Holy Land. They had been waiting for it so long. There could be no joy about the message though. Previously it had been in the king's hands to decide when to return home, now it was in the power of some European duke. Robin had heard enough of the power play, had seen enough of what happened when kings and dukes and popes quarreled, when they exerted their powers over others, pulled each other into devastating wars. Robin knew enough to not want to play that game, too. On the other hand, sometimes matters seemed to be simple: the sheriff was evil, Gisborne was his cruel right-hand man who terrorized the peasants, Prince John was given them power. Robin had to fight to keep the evil at bay until the king returned. Then everything would go back to normal. This was what he wanted to believe.

As his feet were once again getting cold, and the wind blew the hood of his head again and again, Robin also thought back to the time when things had seemed simple before. Years ago, before he had gone off to war, it had seemed a clear and easy matter as well. He would go and fight for King Richard in the Holy Land, would fight what he believed to be the evil there, would soon return victorious to his home, would finally wed Marian. This idea had been shattered very soon after he had first tread on the hot sand of the lands that crusaders and Saracens were battling about.

It was a strange memory, to remember the feeling of the warm sand in his hands, now that he would only be able to pick up balls of icy snow. In the desert he had realized through five long years that the world was more complicated than he had thought. There were no simple solutions to all problems, and what he had thought to be the enemies of what he believed in had turned out to be victims and culprits of the same crime the crusaders were committing and suffering from.

Robin looked up into the sky, snow drifting over him. He smiled grimly. Matters were not simple here either. But then he knew who the enemy was. Vaysey would always be one, as would Gisborne. He did not know yet what consequences these developments would have, or what opportunities the men in Nottingham would grasp to further pursue their plots against the king, but he was certain that here, for once, matters were clear-cut. He would go back to the forest and continue to fight from there. His men would help. He knew which side he was on, which side they were on. At least this much was clear and it came as a relief in a situation where nothing else was easy.

Robin turned to glance back at Locksley one last time, seeing the light of the fires that burned inside the cottages shine through the cracks of the boarded-up windows. He would return there some day. For now he was to go back to his men, who no doubt were waiting concernedly in this cold and increasingly stormy night.

**TBC**


	2. Cold

**A/N: **Thanks to _Emmithar_ for the beta!

* * *

**Chapter 2: Cold**

Marian closed the door of her chamber behind her, hugging the cloth that covered her upper body closer around her. She took a few more steps into her room and her gaze fell on the floor.

Something was not right. The wet traces on the stone floor told too clearly of the intruder. She lifted her eyebrows.

"Where are you?"

She didn't dare speak his name... if it was someone else after all, such a wrong word could prove devastating.

Her frown turned into a smile as Robin stepped out from his hiding place. His clothes were still dropping wet, as well as soiled with splatters of mud. She hadn't seen him in weeks and it was with relief that she crossed the few steps towards him now. A hug followed a kiss, before she looked closer at him. He seemed worn and it didn't much surprise her.

"How are you doing?" he asked, taking her hand in his.

"I'm fine."

He grimaced. "That doesn't sound convincing."

She shook her head slightly, feeling that it was not the right time to discuss her worries. Robin would not be able to help her.

"You're the one who's soaking wet. You've got to be cold," her voice sounded harsher than she'd intended it to be, but Robin didn't appear as if he minded her tone.

"I'm alright." He shrugged.

She frowned. "This is not the type of weather to be treading around in wet clothing. Wait here, I'll find you something dry."

"This weather is what gave me theses clothes," Robin reminded her, grabbing her arm as she turned. "I came for a reason..."

He stopped as she leaned forward, smiling as their lips met for the briefest of moments. She pulled back, eying him with a suspicious grin. "Well...more than one reason," he admitted.

"If we're going to talk, then you're going to be dry," she scolded him. She would not allow him to stay bundled in the wraps of filthy wet clothing.

"Alright, but I don't know how flattering I'll look in one of your dresses," he nodded, crossing his arms, apparently waiting for her to get him the promised dry clothes. It caused her to wonder if he thought she'd promised things she couldn't deliver, but she moved to a wooden chest and opening the lid, quickly produced a fresh set of clothes out of it.

"Where did you get these from?" Robin wondered, looking at what was decidedly man's clothing.

"Well, I sometimes need to get-"

"I doubt you've been wearing these." He grinned as he dressed, the smirk vanishing for a moment as he pulled the shirt over his head.

"I haven't," she shook her head. "That's not the point though. You could get sick."

He shrugged again. "So I get sick; it happens."

Marian frowned and his expression turned more serious, as he was watching her.

"Something's upsetting you," he stated, stepping closer now that he was done dressing.

"Yes," she confirmed. "You are." She tried for a smile to banish the frown. She didn't mind telling him what was troubling her, but she didn't want to hear him making her any false hopes, promises of help he wouldn't be able to keep.

He smirked, leaning in to kiss her again instead of answering. She smiled, pulling back, knowing this was a favorite tactic of his. She sobered up then, looking at him earnestly.

"It's my father."

Robin nodded.

"He's ill…very ill, and he's down there in the dungeons. It's cold and damp." She turned away from him, closing her eyes. "I need to get him out of there."

"I can help-"

"I know you want to, but what would you do? You might be able to fight just fine, but he can't. And if you did manage to get him out, where would you go?" She shook her head, still with her back to him. She remembered his pleas, asking her to come to the forest with him. "He can't go to the forest," she said, almost having to laugh at the ludicrous thought. It would have been better if she hadn't mentioned it at all. She turned back to him, wanting to change the subject. "Why did you come again?"

"The king."

She nodded. She had expected him to hear about it, and knew that the would come to her as soon as he did.

"What do you know about it?" Robin rubbed his forehead with one hand.

"Bits and pieces." Grimacing, she added, "The sheriff doesn't trust me with his private information."

Robin gave her a stern look and she realized she had made a mistake. It was only supporting his argument that she shouldn't be here at the castle anymore.

"Gisborne's been telling me some things," she explained, knowing Robin wouldn't like this any better than what she had said before. "The king's been handed over to Henry IV." She said it in a calm voice, but she knew how much indignation it would cause.

"The-" Robin shook his head. "To the emperor?"

Marian nodded. "There's a ransom set."

"Money," Robin spat, knowing the trouble it would cause already. "How much?"

"150,000 marks."

Robin closed his eyes, shaking his head quietly. "England doesn't have that much to give."

Marian knew this to be true, but at the same time she knew that there was no hope without the king returning home. But then there was nothing she and Robin could do about it. They'd have to wait till the king was finally free and able to return to the country, even if it meant they had to wait just as long as they had waited for him to leave the war behind.

"You have to stay focused on what's happening here," she said with these thoughts in mind. Robin nodded, but she wasn't sure he had really taken her advice to his heart. "What are you going to do? It's been quiet these last weeks," she said, bringing up a smile, as she remembered the cold and lonely days, trying to force both their thoughts to happier prospects.

"I-" Robin started, but he was interrupted as there was a loud knock at her door. Another knock was followed by an unmistakable voice.

"Marian?"

"Gisborne," Robin hissed in a low voice.

"You've got to go," Marian motioned him to leave, calling out towards the door at the same time. "A moment, please." Startled she saw Robin not leaving but moving forward and found him planting a quick kiss on her lips, before turning around and climbing out of the window.

She saw him disappearing out of sight just as she heard the door behind her being opened. Remembering the heap of wet clothes Robin had left behind, she grabbed them from the floor and threw them under her bed, sitting down there with the same movement, pretending to have been there the whole time. Closing her eyes for only a second, she let out a sigh, wondering why he always had to take these risks. She hadn't seen him in weeks and she had missed him, but she certainly didn't miss fearing for his life every time he came to town, ready to pull one of his stunts.

She turned her head towards the door and faced Guy with a polite smile.

"Marian."

She tried to put Robin out of her mind, focusing on the other man now. "You rode out this morning?" she asked, standing up from the bed. "Was it a pleasant ride?" She knew it could not much have been so in the present weather, and her mind wandered once again to Robin who had entered her chamber dripping wet.

"Acceptable in the circumstances," Guy replied. He cleared his throat, coming further into the room and looking around. She knew he would notice the traces of mud and melted snow Robin had carried inside, but hoped he wouldn't ask about it. "I hope you are comfortable here, as well as you can be. I know the castle walls can't offer the warmth a house could give."

"You do not need to worry about me, Guy."

He nodded, a frown appearing on his face then as he realized what she was hinting at.

"You've been outside?" he asked with another glance at the room, going for a topic she had hoped to avoid in favour of one that she was actually willing to discuss.

"Yes, briefly. I'd just changed- it's too wet and dirty outside..."

Guy nodded.

"My father?" she tried again what she had already been alluding to earlier.

"I'm sorry. The sheriff does not allow it."

Marian chose not to comment on it any further for now. She had tried to coax Guy into convincing the sheriff to let her father leave the dungeons – the place that was going to be his death this winter, as it was held in bitter coldness. But Guy's persuasive power with the sheriff was apparently still somewhere between small and non-existent.

She would have to approach the sheriff herself, although she doubted she would have much more success than Guy had. Though she judged her methods to be generally more successful, she had no stand with Vaysey; quite the opposite – he would be very wary of her. Marian was afraid that in this matter her presence was not helping her father at all.

Guy still stood there, apparently waiting for the moment that he could bring up whatever request or demand he was planning to make today. With the weather as bad as it was, he seemed to have been looking for her company even more than usual. Or maybe it was only the impression she had, mostly stuck in the castle herself.

"I wish to go see my father," she said then, before he could even bring up what he had certainly wanted to.

"It is quite chilling down there," he warned her even as she stood. "No place for a lady."

"Nor is it a place for a lady's father. But that doesn't seem to stop you or the sheriff from keeping him down there."

It was with anger that she spoke. Even as she voiced the words she was aware that this was the kind of thing that had led to much of the trouble she and her father found herself in. On the other hand, the alternative would have been betrayal of the crown. She might have been more careful, acting as she and her father had advised Robin to do, before he had become an outlaw. But with the sheriff it was questionable how long they could have remained safe, even if there had not been the failed wedding with Gisborne.

The very man looked at her with a hardened expression now.

She breathed out slowly, trying to calm, bringing up the words that were the only thing that were serving her in situations like these, least she wanted to go and live in the forest as well.

"Forgive me, I am just worried for my father."

"Marian, the sheriff is expecting a guest tonight. There will be a festive dinner." He spoke as if the previous exchange had not taken place. She nodded, knowing what the request would be. "I wish you to attend."

"Do you wish it or does the sheriff?" Marian asked quietly, no sharpness in her voice when she spoke words that could have just as well come out in a fully different way, if not her anger had cooled down by now, replaced by an exhausted worry.

"I do," he said, nodding once. "The sheriff has not extended his invitation, but I wish you to be there."

She nodded as well, wondering how much desire to show his estimation was in his words, and how much was simply willingness to exert the power he held.

"I'm going to be there."

* * *

The camp was closed. They kept it closed all of the times these days, even when not all of them were back at their home yet.

Much knew it was a good thing because it kept the warmth in and the cold out, which was very much needed these days. But still it made him nervous. Or maybe he was simply nervous and he just felt it so much more in the enclosed off space that was their camp. He wanted to have a full view of the forest, wanted to look out for Robin. It wasn't like he'd know much in advance when the man or any of the other outlaws would make their way to the camp, it was too well hidden for that, but still, he felt like he should be on the look-out for his master, who was the only one of the outlaws not enjoying the comparative coziness of the camp now. As usual he was up and about; nobody knew where he had gone or when he would return. Much guessed the man would never change in that matter.

It wasn't the only thing that would never change, Much figured. The day before Robin had returned from another one of his lonely trips, from Locksley as he had told them. He'd also mentioned that he had met Thornton and that the man had given him the food Robin had brought with him to camp, greatly to Much's delight. But apart from that Robin had been awfully quiet that night.

Much knew he'd been brooding on something, but he had no clue what it was. He had waited for Robin to tell him, but as it happened far too often, he had not done so. Much hoped the man wasn't worrying about the peasants or the town's folk again. He knew it bothered Robin deeply if he did not have the love and respect of the people, but in Much's mind, he shouldn't be worrying about it too much. He loved Robin, and if the people were so ungrateful not to do the same – and just because of some tales of the sheriff – then Robin should not care about them.

But maybe it was something entirely different that Robin had been thinking about, but Much had no way to know, if the man didn't tell him. So neither Much nor the rest of the gang could really know what Robin was up to on this day. They had guessed that he had gone off to Nottingham, probably to see Marian, as he had not done so for several weeks, but they were not certain about it. Much knew that one day they had to find a way to make their leader talk to them.

When he had voiced the thought, Allan had what he considered jokingly suggested some measures that were rather methods the jailer of Nottingham would use, but Much had been disgusted at the talk, no matter that Allan had quickly assured him that it had only been in jest. After all, the man had even added as if in an afterthought, that it would be a more promising way to gain any insightful information from Robin than Much's desperate asking.

Much got up from where he had been sitting. If he could not do anything else, he would at least start supper. It was something they'd all need, of course, and once Robin returned, he'd at least be able to warm up with a nice hot stew. Much nodded to himself, as he walked over to what was considered the kitchen part of the camp.

He'd started chopping carrots in a large pot, the fire already burning under it, when there was a sound by the entrance of the camp. Only those who knew where it was would find the spot that marked the place that would open it. A moment later, a man was sticking his head inside the camp and it was indeed the one Much had hoped for.

"There you are, Master."

Robin nodded towards him, moving fully into the camp, before carefully closing it off both against any intruders and the coldness outside.

"Robin!" Djaq greeted him.

"Where've you been?" Allan asked and Much only noticed now that the man was awake.

"In Nottingham," Robin replied simply, dropping down on a bench. Much watched his expression for a moment, seeing the same pondering in it that he'd seen recently more often than usual. He opened his mouth to ask a familiar question, but decided then to continue chopping carrots. It would do more good, he guessed.

He was finished with that task and had just started to look for what else he could put into the stew, when Robin spoke again.

"There's something I need to tell you."

Not even the sight of the piece of meat from Will and Allan's last hunt that he had just discovered in their storage could keep Much from turning to Robin now.

"What is it?" he asked eagerly, moving towards the man, glad he was finally ready to talk to them. Robin was silent for another few moments and Much almost thought he had changed his mind.

"The king has left the Holy Land," the man said then.

"Yes!" Much exclaimed, but fell silent when he saw Robin's face. "This is a good thing... right?"

"He has been taken captive in Austria," Robin added and Much looked at him incredulously as the man told the gang the rest of what he had learned from Thornton and Marian. There was silence when he had finished.

"What are you going to do?" Much finally asked, sure Robin had a plan on his mind, no matter how tricky the situation.

"The ransom... England doesn't have that sum to pay," Robin said, but to Much it seemed as if he was talking more to himself because what use to the outlaws' discussion could the talk about the ransom have? They could surely not get involved in that...

"Not being funny, but we sure don't have it either," Allan commented with a shake of his head. Robin looked at him sternly. "Just saying..."

"We've got to find a way-" their leader started, but Will interrupted him.

"Robin, we've got to talk to you, too."

Much knew what was on Will's mind. It had been on all their minds for the past weeks, if not months, and he also understood why Will was interrupting Robin now.

"What is it, Will?"

"Djaq and I, we've been to Nettlestone today." Will spoke steadfastly and Robin nodded only, waiting for him to go on. Much remembered that Robin had not exactly told them to stay at camp, so he surely could not argue against the trip the two outlaws had undertaken. "The people are starving," Will emphasized. "They don't have anything left."

Robin nodded again slowly. What Will said came as no surprise. It had only been a question of which village would run out of food first. They'd actually guessed that the town would be where food would be most scarce, with the storages nearly empty even at the beginning of the winter.

"We need to help." John's statement was clear and Much only waited for Robin's plan as to what they would do.

"There's talk about the peasants going and hunting in the forest – you know how that's going to end," Allan grimaced.

"Yes, I know," Robin confirmed with a strained expression.

Much knew that they would go and help the villages, even though they seemed to have no plan as of yet as to how they would accomplish it. He was certain that Robin would come up with something, but then he also guessed that Robin had the other matter on his mind, too. The king's troubles, for the peasants they were as far away as the moon was, but Much knew that for Robin they were important.

Robin frowned then. "What's that smell?"

Much stared at him and with a sudden realization he turned to the pot he had set up earlier. It didn't contain much more than the vegetables as of yet, but those were getting very well cooked.

**TBC**


	3. Pursuit

**A/N: **This took a while, but in my mind moving to another country is a good excuse. So there we go :) Thanks to Emmithar for the beta once again!

* * *

**Chapter 3: Pursuit **

It had been simply marvelous at first. When the sheriff had found the letter delivered to him, still being in his pajamas himself, he had barely dared to believe his luck. King Richard had been taken captive! He didn't care at all who that duke was who had accomplished the feat, but he hoped that the man would take care of the troublesome king for a long time coming. The message had added a very interesting point to the one he had received several weeks before. Back then a letter had told of the impeding return of King Richard. The man had left the Holy Land behind and was to return to England after several years of absence. It was an event for that the sheriff had been planning for a long time.

The new information had brought this to a halt. It interfered with his plans, yes, but it had been even better than those. The sheriff had been giddy with joy when he had learned of the king's misfortune. Now the pesky king was out of the way, with no worries of having to disguise any strange manners of sudden death. In fact, none of this would trace back to him, Vaysey had realized with glee. He had read the letter again, laughing as he danced about the room. This manner had fully confused Gisborne upon his arrival.

Things only went downhill from there. While Richard was still in captivity, things had come in motion in England. There were plenty of rumors going around and Vaysey knew only part of them disproved or confirmed by messages he received.

It was said that the Queen Mother was working for Richard's release, trying to raise the money that would be necessary to do so; it was a sum that Vaysey knew would be several times the annual income of the crown. The endeavor was doomed to fail. There was another rumor that he had good information for to be true. Prince John and the King of France had offered money for Richard to be kept captive, a feat that the sheriff wished to have thought of.

It was a marvelous idea, no matter what it was coming to now. Vaysey grinned at the thought, as he watched Gisborne entering his chamber.

But while the idea was genius, the results were not, at least not for the Sheriff of Nottingham. This morning yet another message had arrived from London. The Prince had not openly confirmed the offer he had made to prolong the captivity, but had instead spoken long-windedly of the need to raise the money for the ransom. The demands to the sheriff had been less flowery. The amount of tax money that was to be sent to London was to be increased drastically. The sheriff knew it was hardly possible to fulfill the demand, even if he were to squeeze out the peasants to the very last. Not to mention that there was still a nasty little problem around.

Nottingham, as usual, had fallen behind in sending the tax money, and Vaysey knew that raising taxes would do no good. Hood would just swipe it all, especially in these desperate times. Not that the peasants would actually be able to buy any more food, even if they were to get their share of the loot. Vaysey knew that there was simply no more available this winter. Knowing this, he had ordered the guards to pay extra attention to the storages of the castle, as well as to any poaching that may be going on in the forest.

What was mostly on his mind though was the pressure coming from London. He looked with mild curiosity at the man in front of him. He knew that Gisborne had been wasting his time with the leper again. The man just wasn't able to forget about her, dragging her about the castle to every single event, even to the recent festive dinner that the sheriff had certainly not hosted to give Gisborne an opportunity to spend time with her... He was obsessed with her…and Marian knew that, Vaysey was very well aware of it. So it had been yet more annoying when he had recently found Gisborne asking him to release Sir Edward out of the dungeon. He had naturally declined, and Gisborne hadn't tried again, though Vaysey was amused briefly by the question as to how he had explained the failure to Marian.

"Have you made any progress?" he finally asked, rolling his eyes already in anticipation of an unsatisfying answer.

"Hood has not been in town for weeks, the weather must be stalling him," Gisborne replied and Vaysey was now certain that nothing useful could come out of this conversation. He was not even going to ask the man if he was certain about what he had said.

"John is demanding his share of tax money, as you know."

"Yes, my Lord."

"And we do not have it." Vaysey wondered in how much he really had to spell it out.

"Then we will raise more."

"Why?" the sheriff wondered mildly. "So Hood can spread it under the peasants once again? The poor starving souls, who won't even be able to buy any food from it anyway?"

Gisborne's expression showed a frown ever so slightly. "He has not been sighted in weeks, my Lord." His sound told of his wonderment to have to repeat his earlier statement.

"Oh, and you don't think he will show his face again once he learns of treasure being carried around?"

"Then we have to stop him."

"Marvelous! Gisborne, why haven't we thought of this before?" he squealed happily, clapping his hands. "Oh, wait a minute...we have! It doesn't work!"

"Then obviously we're doing something wrong."

"And what is that, Gisborne? I'm weary of playing these guessing games." He knew Gisborne would not have a fruitful answer, so the sheriff decided to drop the topic for now and turn to more delightful matters. "You know Lord Denby is arriving tonight, if he is arriving and you have not failed at the necessary security once again..."

"Yes, my Lord."

"So do us all a favor and leave your little leper behind for once. Keep your head where it belongs," the sheriff waved him away, knowing he would have to think about the problems at hand on his own, as well as about the opportunities the upcoming visit would offer.

* * *

Robin hadn't expected to be back in Nottingham quite so soon. He didn't really mind though; it was Much who had fussed about it, especially about the fact that Robin had wanted to go alone once again. The others had been with Much on the matter though and Robin had finally agreed that the whole gang was to visit the town. It would do them all some good to get out for a bit, despite how uninviting the weather truly was.

He wasn't quite sure what the gang were planning to do there though. Even if they kept to themselves, people were bound to recognize them. They would plead for whatever little the outlaws had, yet Robin knew that they had nothing left to hand out. He hoped that they would not raise any false hopes in the town. Maybe people would expect that the men had come to help, but would be disappointed in this matter. Robin didn't like the idea at all, wondering if there was any lingering ill-will against him left in any way.

Once they had slipped into town, the gang went their own ways, while Robin prepared to sneak into the castle once again. He hadn't told his men about that detail, figuring they would want to follow him, if he told them so directly, but he guessed that they had an idea about what he was doing anyway.

But he had not even made it to the castle yard when he saw a very familiar figure sneaking along an alley. He didn't know what she was up to and followed her, planning to ask her just that. He didn't want to expose her to any watchful eye though, so he was careful in his pursuit.

Then Marian moved around a corner and he lost sight of her. Hurrying now, he leapt over a pile of firewood, skirting around the corner as well. He spotted her and saw also what she was on the look-out for.

Gisborne was marching over the market place, moving right ahead towards the inn. He didn't enter immediately though, but seemingly hesitated outside, before approaching a beam of the house and rubbing his hand over what Robin believed to have been a sign made of chalk, blurring it effectively. Then the man moved into the tavern.

Marian hurried over to the inn, pulling the hood of her heavy winter cloak over her head. Robin followed. Much to his discomfort, she entered the tavern as well. Robin tensed, wondering what Gisborne would think if he were to catch her inside, following him.

He was unsure as to what to do. Even now there were dozens of foot tracks in the muddy snow, leading to the building both Gisborne and Marian had entered moments ago. His curiosity demanded that he went in there as well, but then if Marian was to be caught following Gisborne, it was better if he was not there to be caught alongside of her, or any excuses she'd be able to come up with for Gisborne's sake would be futile.

So he did his best to blend in with the crowd that was moving over the market place, wandering seemingly carefree along the row of houses at one side of the place then, keeping an eye on the tavern.

It took mere minutes until Gisborne emerged from the building, striding with large paces over the market, heading for the castle yard. His face was set in a grim expression and Robin still wondered what had gone on inside. Seconds later Marian came outside as well. Her face was still hidden by the cloak that she had drawn up over her head . More surprising than her reappearance was yet another person that followed out of the inn soon after, when Robin was already heading over to intercept Marian.

Robin stopped for a moment, looking at the man in mild confusion. Of course he knew that the gang was around somewhere in town, but it still was puzzling as to why Allan would leave a tavern just moments after Gisborne and Marian had. It could be a coincidence, he reminded himself, but just as well the outlaw could be up to something and Robin wanted to know what this would be.

There wasn't much time to ponder over it, knowing that Marian was disappearing quickly. Deciding to follow her for now, knowing that he needed to speak with her, he didn't bother keeping an eye on Allan. They would talk later.

Marian was already way ahead of him by now and he hurried his step to catch up with her. It was then that he saw Gisborne suddenly stopping ahead of Marian, then turning around with a frown on his face.

Marian had quickly ducked out of sight, retreating a few steps in Robin's direction then. Gisborne seemed to have caught sight of her though, for he took several large strides in her direction. Marian turned a corner into a backalley, while Robin wove in and out of people, trying to get closer to her, while Gisborne was looking around as to where she had gone.

Robin finally slipped into the alleyway that led parallel to the one Marian had been moving down, and running at full speed now, he turned several corners in quick succession, coming up to where he expected her to be. He spotted her, seeing her trying to find cover as he noticed Gisborne entering the alleyway at the other side, guards on his heels now. The man knew that something was going on...

Robin dashed forward, pushing against the wooden door of a house in the narrow lane, finding with relief that it was opening. It took another moment and a surprised look from Marian to get them both into the house, Robin bolting the door from the inside.

"Robin!"

Robin hushed her, taking only a short glance into the room they were in to ensure that they were alone, before peeking through a crack between the wood that had been used to board up the windows, keeping the cold of the winter outside.

Marian tried to peek outside as well then and he could feel her next to him, a hand coming to lie on his shoulders.

Outside in the alley, he could see a flash of black leather and knew that Gisborne was wandering around outside, probably still trying to discover where the person that he was pursuing had gone. Robin felt his heart beating quickly, but was smiling by now. Another few moments and any sight of Gisborne was gone.

Robin turned around with a grin, happily taking Marian into his arms. Her expression softened as well and it put Robin in quite a cheery mood to think of Gisborne searching outside in frustration, while he was having Marian with him inside here.

"What were you doing?" he asked her then, referring to her following Gisborne. He knew it wasn't the first time she had done this, it was the way she got much of the information she gave to the outlaws later, but still, he felt uncomfortable. If Gisborne were to catch her off guard and she failed to come up with a good excuse...

"Gisborne met somebody in the tavern."

Robin nodded. It was to be expected. He doubted the man would go to the public place to drink; this he could do with plenty of access to the castle's kitchen as well.

"Did you see who?"

Marian hesitated and Robin felt dread coming up inside of him.

"No, I didn't... Gisborne didn't seem happy though. They talked only for a few moments, before he left." She frowned.

"But you've got a suspicion?" Robin insisted.

She nodded. "I'm sorry... but I think it is one of your men."

Robin closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his lips together, trying to digest the information. "Why do you think so?" He himself had seen Allan leaving the tavern as well, but still he did not want to believe the implication.

"I... listened." She sighed. "Gisborne's been hinting at a new source of information when he's talking to the sheriff. It's been going on for a while, as it seems. I hadn't heard about it for a while, could be because of the weather. But I noticed that he seemed to have information every time the gang had been in Nottingham..."

Robin sighed. So perhaps the sheriff's words were true. Months ago, when the whole gang, apart from Djaq and Will had been captured, the sheriff had told him that there was a traitor in his gang. It had been to torment Robin even more, as the sheriff was in the belief of finally accomplishing his goal to kill Robin. Robin hadn't known what to believe, but Marian's words reminded him of all the doubts he had pondered back then. There was a traitor among him. But who? His thoughts drifted, Allan coming up in his mind. Was it possible the man was responsible? He was at the inn the same time Gisborne was, but then, Allan being at the inn at all wasn't anything suspicious. It was in the man's nature to gravitate there.

"Tell this to no one," he warned Marian quietly. He would sort things out on his own. If he had time for it that was, remembering the reason he had actually come to town. "I'm going to look into it... The gang and I, we're going to leave for a while... if there's a traitor, then they're not going to be able to talk to Gisborne for the time."

Robin figured that if Gisborne was still getting his information, it would show that no member of the gang was responsible. He didn't tell Marian this, but he assumed she would work it out on her own.

The frown reappeared on her face. "Leaving, why?"

There was something in her eyes that reminded Robin of the time when he had told her that he was to leave for the Holy Lands. Back then he had not known it would be for five long years, though he could not have assumed it to be much less than many months of absence. He had abandoned her then as well, not only Locksley. Her cool behavior towards him when he had finally returned, wasn't a surprise then, when he thought about it now, though he had expected a much warmer welcome back then.

He wondered if turning outlaw and going to the forest had been yet another abandonment in her mind. She might not have wanted to admit any feelings for him anymore back then, and he could not blame her.

But now was not a time to ponder that. All that mattered was seeing to the King's release, and bringing him home, all the while trying to ensure the peasants survival. Once he was here, they could discuss the finer points of life, and try and sort out where they had gone wrong in the past. He laid a hand against her cheek, caressing it for a moment as he smiled.

"We will not be gone for long. I will come and see you when we return."

She nodded. "Is it about the king?"

"No, not directly. We're going to get another food delivery to the villages. If the sheriff isn't getting anything to them, we have to. We have money that we can give, but what good does that do when there is no food to buy? They can't eat silver." He paused. "I do hope to gain more information about the king's captivity though. Maybe I can learn more elsewhere, see what others are saying."

"I'll see what more I can learn as well. You take care of yourself and your men."

He leaned in once more, placing another kiss on her forehead. "The same counts for you." He grimaced. "You think Gisborne has left by now?"

She smiled. "He's probably back at the castle."

"You want me to go out first?"

Marian shook her head, moving to the door. "If he sees me, I'll just tell him that I grew cold, and was trying to seek shelter. If he sees you, you're in trouble." She smiled weakly.

"Alright. I'm going to wait long enough for you to get back to the castle."

"Don't want me being caught with outlaws." She was still smiling.

He smiled back, but he thought of his plea to come with him to the forest. When he thought about the conditions they were facing right now, he didn't want her to be there, but then he always feared for her, when she was at the castle. Right now was not the time to approach the topic again.

"I will come and see you, when we return," he promised again, and she nodded, before removing the bolt at the door. She opened it carefully, before slipping outside, shutting it behind her. Robin bolted the door once again, ensuring nobody would be able to enter and find an outlaw just having met with her. He peeked through the crack in the wood again, but Marian was already gone. Now he just had to wait for enough time to pass for her to get back to the castle, hoping Gisborne would not still be around outside. Robin couldn't deny that he had enjoyed it, but then he also had to admit that he often endangered her, when he sneaked up to her room, or met her in places like this. He just hoped that times would come, when this secrecy would not be necessary anymore.

**TBC**


	4. Choices

**A/N: Thank you for all your comments and thanks to Emmithar for the beta as usual :)**

**

* * *

Chapter 4: Choices **

It was with some reluctance that they left the camp behind to make their way through another icy winter day, leaving the shire to go to York as Robin had decided. Allan had no real idea why the man believed the situation to be any better there than in Nottingham, or how he hoped to achieve anything there. In Allan's experience, rulers were pretty much the same everywhere, they cared little about what effects their doings had on the common folk, so he figured that the peasants in Yorkshire weren't faring much better than the ones in Nottingham – not that Allan had really paid any attention to it in the past. So he questioned Robin's assumption that the other shire would have their storages filled, and that they would still be able to trade.

Robin had argued that not all sheriffs were like Vaysey. There would be ones who would understand that the peasants needed to make ends meet for the sheriff to collect his taxes and win the approval of king, or prince, or whoever they were seeking favor with.

Allan was busier pitying the fact that they had left the camp. He wasn't always keen on being stuck there, but he had come to realize that in these harsh winter conditions it was the best place he could be in, considering the circumstances of living in the forest. He wouldn't have minded a warm place in a cottage, but then he was an outlaw and these kinds of comforts had been far away for a considerable time now. And even before he had become an outlaw, life as a thief hadn't always acquired him these either. He guessed that this winter was actually better than a good number of ones he had lived through before. He had a place to stay. He had food, although it was getting scarce even for the outlaws. But these were things that certainly had not always been secured before. He often had needed to thieve and lie for them day after day. Well, now he was often fighting for them day after day. Or doing things he could probably not exactly be proud of.

Especially now that he also came to realize that the present comparative safety of his situation came from the fact that the gang had secured and filled their camp in a group effort. None of them would have been able to do as much on their own. Allan had no clue about carpentry; it was to Will's credit that they even had the camp. They often complained about Much's cooking, but then the man had also found new ways to make the little they had edible. Djaq had been able to help them with any of the common ailments that came with the cold of the winter...

And he, Allan, he had met Gisborne again. When the gang had decided to go to Nottingham after several weeks of absence, a fight had started inside of him as to what he was to do. The best solution, he guessed, would have been to drop it altogether. While he had originally justified the betrayal – and he could really not call it anything else – with the fact that it had started under torture, he by now admitted to himself that it did not mean he had to continue it any further. He was no longer in any more danger from Gisborne than any of the other outlaws were on a daily basis, he now had little more reason to give him information than any of the others had – if not for the money that was.

So the sign of chalk had appeared again outside of the tavern. Neither Djaq nor Will, who had been close, had noticed Allan's inconspicuous movement. And Allan told himself that it could not hurt at all to be able to buy some pints of ale to warm the heart on this frosty day, nor would it do so to add a little something to the small stash he had hidden in the forest, hoping to have a start for the time when their outlaw days would be over.

Then his look fell on Djaq who had asked him a question while he had been in thought. She had needed to repeat herself and Allan had realised with a sting that it was not he who was looking at the most insecure future of all of them.

The realisation had almost caused him to raise his arm and blur the sign he had made only moments before. But he had not done so, knowing Djaq would notice his doings now, would question him. No, the sign remained, and mere minutes later, when they had already made their way over the market place, he excused himself from his friends, hurrying back to the tavern, knowing Gisborne would arrive soon enough.

Allan had been sitting and waiting on hot needles. The moment he entered the tavern his resolve had been for this to be the last meeting with the Master-at-Arms. He would tell the man so. He would even be able to reason it. Gisborne had been ready to let him hang, when the gang had been captured in the autumn. Why would he, Allan, work for him any longer?

And this was what he had actually told Gisborne, causing an amused grunt from the other. Allan had expected the man to react this way, if he had told him that he simply didn't want to betray the gang any longer. But the voiced disappointment about Gisborne's lack of interest in his welfare was apparently not a matter to be taken seriously by the Master-At-Arms either. Nevertheless, their conversation had been short; Allan had refused to give any information; indeed he would not have been able to tell anything that would interest Gisborne, the outlaws being stuck at their camp for most of the past few weeks. Gisborne had stood up with a smirk, voicing the guess that Allan would come crawling back to him soon enough, before he had turned and left the tavern in the course of moments.

Allan felt uncomfortable when he thought back of it now, while they were walking through the early morning light, the icy snow crunching under their feet. The visit to Nottingham had been altogether a rather depressing matter. He had seen how it weighed down on Will to have nothing to hand out, all the while knowing that the town's people were going as hungry as the villagers around Nottingham were.

Allan kept going, watching the tracks Much made in the snow walking before him, paying attention not to stumble on the slippery ground. The gang was marching along in silence, everyone occupied with their own thoughts. It was when Allan glanced to the side, having just avoided a low branch that hung over their trail, that he noticed that Robin was watching him.

He thought at first he was mistaken, but when he looked up again, the man's gaze was still on him. When Allan met it, Robin did not look away; it was as if he wanted him to know. Allan was about to make a comment, a joke maybe, anything he might come up with, when Robin spoke up. The man was not talking only to Allan though, was not giving an explanation, but called out to all of the outlaws.

"Alright, we know the sheriff has guards stationed in this village," he made a sign towards the settlement that they knew to be behind the thicket of trees. "We go in, take as many horses from them as we can get, and we're on our way."

Everyone nodded. They had talked about it before. Walking all the way to York would take too much of their time away, especially in these weather conditions. On horseback they would need to go careful as well, least any of the horses they were about to steal would fall and break its neck, or theirs for that matter. But still it would speed up their journey.

They walked into the village in a slow, deliberate manner, hoping to draw no attention until they were about to strike out. Few other people were in their way. Allan could make out two guards who were talking with each other, their horses bound next to them. A third guard was watching over the village, though Allan could only wonder what he was watching out for. It was not like they could expect outlaws to come to this place...

Allan frowned. Of course they could not know. Nobody had told the sheriff they would come here. Allan had not even known about it until this morning. And if he had known he would not have told Gisborne. Or would he? He had made it clear with the man that he would not give him any more information. But then Allan had to admit that he could not be certain what he would have done, if he had actually held any valuable information to sell. Had it been too easy to say he would not do it anymore, when he had actually nothing to sell?

He grabbed his sword tighter, as they moved stealthily towards the guards, and he glanced backwards briefly, once again finding Robin's gaze on him, before the man looked away this time, focusing on the task at hand.

Minutes later they were riding out of the village, angry yells of the unlucky guards sounding behind them. Allan drove his horse to run faster, following Robin's, once again having decided where he was going.

* * *

She had donned her heavy cloak again, but she felt cold nonetheless. The way down to the dungeons was always a miserable one. More than once she had been met downwards by the jailer, who oversaw the removal of a poor soul that had died from hunger or sickness or other causes Marian rather chose not to think about.

She was carrying a heavy blanket, yet another one she was taking down to her father, and she could only hope the jailer would allow it. She knew the man was only acting out of spite, was not actually following any rules the sheriff might have set. It was not like Vaysey would come down here and check whether the prisoners had any blankets at their disposal.

Marian figured that the sheriff only rarely descended down here at all. He left the dirty work to Gisborne, and only showed his face if he wanted to boast over a prisoner he considered of more value, either to display his power or to simply enjoy himself. Thankfully that had not been the case with her father.

There was a pain she could not explain, one that strengthened each time she ventured down here. Even for her the chill was unbearable, the smell made of a mixture that didn't even seem possible, and the dank, dark conditions worked to sap the very strength of one's spirit. For herself, she could not bear to be down here for more than a few minutes at a time. She could not imagine what it would be like to be confined… like her father. Slowly she moved in the dim light towards the cell, calling out softly to the man inside, who was slumped on his bunk.

"Father?"

He didn't react at first and it was only when she called again that he lifted his head.

"Marian."

When she heard his voice, she knew even more so than before that she had to do something. She handed him the blanket, knowing how little it would help down here. He did not even acknowledge it.

"Take it," she asked him quietly.

"Marian," he said again and she fell silent. He looked at her and she hated everyone in this castle. "If anything happens... you need to leave the castle." He said it calmly and she found herself nodding, although she knew she never would let anything happen. "We have friends; you know this, go to them. You cannot stay here. You are not safe here." He paused, but this time she did not nod.

"I take care."

"I do not like to say it, but if you need help, I am sure Robin will offer it."

She did not like him talking like this, not when she knew she had to do something, felt she had to be able to do so. She was going to stop this talk.

"Robin has left."

At first she thought she had accomplished as much, for her father fell silent for a few moments. Then he nodded quietly. When he was about to speak again, she wanted to explain, but realised then that it would do no good to discuss the matter here, neither for the sake of what really mattered at the moment and not for their safety either, considering the danger of discussing her alliance with Robin down here where the sheriff might have his eyes and ears.

"I will get you out of here," she asserted then and turned away with a strengthened determination, unwilling to stay any longer as she did not want to lead this conversation, did not want to hear any of his... goodbyes. It was not to be.

She rushed upstairs, passed a smirking jailer, and didn't slow down until she reached the corridor where she knew the chamber to be where the sheriff was holding yet another conference with a distinguished guest.

The door was open to a degree and she could hear the voice of a stranger carried outside into the corridor.

"So Prince John wonders, how you, sir, can be sheriff, if you do not even accomplish to apprehend a common criminal, that even more so, is supposedly the reason for Nottingham's inability to pay its taxes on time."

There was silence after this announcement. Marian walked forward quietly, moving through the open door. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to her as she entered the room. As she was making her way around the chairs only Gisborne glanced into her direction, but didn't offer any other acknowledgement.

"You have to realize that Hood is not a common criminal," Vaysey spoke then and Marian could barely keep a smirk from her face as the sheriff contradicted what he himself had often claimed. "He belonged to King Richard's private guard and has brought the man's war to England."

Marian frowned, coming to a stop behind the assembly. There was Vaysey, Gisborne, an unknown man that she believed to be the speaker of the earlier accusing words, two scribes who were apparently accompanying the man, as well as two nobles who Marian knew to be loyal to the sheriff. More in likely they were there for show. There had been no real Council of Nobles now for months, but that had yet to stop a few lingering nobles from supporting the sheriff.

What the sheriff was saying made no sense to her. It was true that Robin had been in the king's private guard, but he was certainly not acting on the man's orders here. Quite the opposite, Marian feared. It was always in the back of their minds that when Richard returned to England, things would go back to normal, whatever normal might be in that case. Robin would get his lands and titles back. This was what everyone thought. Everyone hoped, maybe. But if Marian thought about it realistically, it was not a given. Nobody could know the whims of a monarch. Maybe the man had long forgotten all that Robin had done for him in the Holy Lands, maybe he considered the man's acts as criminal as the sheriff judged them to be. It was not certain that Robin would not be an outlaw for the rest of his life.

Marian breathed out slowly, trying to focus on the reason she had come here. It was not Robin this time, no matter that the talk about him had distracted her.

"Hood is a criminal who is living in the forest," the speaker unknown to Marian insisted. "You are the sheriff. You are to apprehend him to ensure the taxes make it to London."

If Marian had not been in the gloomy mood she was in, she would have smiled at this, for she had hardly ever seen the sheriff as pressured as he was now. Nobody could threaten him in Nottingham, nobody who would want to could even kill him without endangering the whole town because he was under Prince John's protection. But if the prince was dissatisfied with the man... With these thoughts came the wonder as to why the prince was placing so much importance on a safe delivery of the tax money in a time like this. The crown surely needed it, but Marian could hardly imagine that John was keen on being quick to pay the ransom for the king's release.

"And as you failed to capture him as of yet, you may want to take other measures," the man continued. "I trust in your creativity."

Everyone in the room save for the prince's spokesman and his assistants knew that Vaysey had managed to take Robin captive several times in the past, but had each time failed to kill him. Marian knew that they had been more than lucky that he was still alive and a touch of worry came over her, as she realised that the ongoing conversation might harden the sheriff's resolve to finish Robin off, once and for all, instead of playing with him, as he so often did, like a cat would play with a mouse, before finally doing the killing strike.

The speaker's tone had signaled that this was the end of the conversation. Marian moved around the circle of chairs, approaching the sheriff. The man had yet to notice her, as he was leaning over to Gisborne. Marian knew that she was in earshot of the prince's man and that she was risking much. Her father had nothing to lose.

"My Lord Sheriff," she said loudly, ensuring everyone was to hear her. Gisborne's gaze shot up to her, but she ignored him. He had failed to help her.

She, on the other hand, was ignored by the sheriff.

"My Lord Sheriff," she repeated, showing a politeness she would never offer Vaysey if it were not for the man from London.

The sheriff still did not bother to look at her, but only hissed a, "Yes?"

"My father, Sir Edward, is very unwell, as you are aware. I ask you therefore most insistently to release him from the dungeons. He is a man loyal to you, as you need men in these difficult times, no matter what past disagreements may lie between the two of you." She pressed her lips together once she had finished, knowing Vaysey would not believe one word of what she had said. She had not spoken for his benefit.

She could see that the prince's man was observing the exchange. Still, the sheriff did not even turn to her fully, but grimaced with a look at the accounts that were lying in front of him on the table.

"A clue: no."

There was an ever so slight frown on the London man's face, but as much as Marian might have hoped for it, he did not interfere, and she realised that it had been a silly notion to think that the man would care to bother the sheriff about any matter such as this. He would be no help in freeing her father; his only message to the sheriff was to finally get rid of Robin, if that was what kept Nottingham from fulfilling its tax obligations.

The man strode out of the chamber, followed by his scribes. Vaysey gave her a smirk, while Guy avoided her gaze, as he followed the sheriff on his way out, Vaysey having something in his posture that had never been there before, a sign that he was indeed stressed.

And Marian made a desperate resolution.

**TBC**


	5. Impasse

**A/N: Finally a new chapter... I've been so busy and distracted lately. Thanks to Emmithar for the beta! **

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* * *

Chapter 5: Impasse **

This wasn't Nottingham and all of them could feel it. They were still taking care, were still watching out for any signs of trouble, but they hadn't drawn the hoods over their faces, and they were not sneaking and lurking in shadows. While the danger of being recognized by any guard or other member of the authority was always hanging over their heads in Nottingham, they did not have to fear this here. Of course, they could never be completely safe... who knew if the sheriff had sent word about Robin Hood to the other shires around Nottingham.

But still, they felt that they could lead their horses along the streets of York openly. They had all cleaned their clothes, had tried to banish any signs of the fact that they were usually living in the forest, and Djaq thought they had done a good job. Robin was once again wearing the clothes he had received from Marian some time ago. He was leading his horse ahead of the others, already looking for the place he intended to go to.

Djaq knew what he intended to do. There had been doubts about it among the outlaws. But then there had been the question how else they could explain why they would have the money and the intention to buy food for a village, if they could not claim to be in charge of it. So Robin was to speak for Locksley, hoping no one would make the connection to Robin Hood, or at least no one who would have any interest in betraying them.

Robin stopped in front of a house that was slightly larger than the ones around it that had been built narrowly, yet there were even narrower alleys of cobblestone leading between them. Djaq led her horse to a thin post in front of the building, the others doing the same. Robin then turned to them and nodded. Much went ahead into the house, Robin, Djaq and Allan following behind, while John and Will stayed outside, as they had previously planned, ready to warn them, if there was any need for it.

If she had not known before, the smell that met her inside would have told Djaq quickly what kind of place it was. There was the mix of pepper and ginger and cinnamon in the air that she had not smelled in a long time. These were not the kind of goods they had come for, neither was the cloth that was displayed at the backside of the store. It were simpler goods they were here for. The gang had often bought food for the villages from the money gained in their heists, but never in as large of an amount as they planned now. Equal amounts of food they had previously only gained, when they had managed to overtake a delivery the sheriff had ordered, like they done in the last autumn.

Much quickly introduced Robin, and Djaq had to suppress a smile, as Robin of Locksley stepped in front of the merchant with all the confidence she knew him to possess. She, on the other hand, stayed behind the others, careful not to draw any attention to herself.

"What brings you here, Sir?" she heard the question from what she had learned to be one of the most important merchants of York. The town was a major trading center, which was why Robin hoped that amounts of stored food from all the shires around would be available here.

Robin had taken up to pretend he was still Lord of Locksley, and somewhere in the back of his mind, and maybe even the peasants', Djaq figured, he still was.

"I have come to request a bargain for food to be delivered to certain villages and any holdings trusted to me," Robin said. "We've had a bad harvest and I feel the responsibility to fill up the storages by other means."

How it was to be paid was not certain yet. The gang had money saved from their last ambushes, but it would never be enough for a sufficiently large delivery to feed all the villages around Nottingham and the town itself. They would have to relieve the sheriff of yet more treasures, money the man surely had planned for other expenditures than anything troublesome as feeding the populace.

The merchant nodded solemnly at Robin's explanation, and Djaq could not fail to see his studying eye on their leader. She wondered if the man had any doubts about the group that was in front of him. They looked like travelers following their Master on his business, but one could not be certain what was going on in the man's head.

"I wonder why you take the trouble yourself to come to York, my friend," the merchant suddenly said in a strangely familiar tone. "You could have sent your servants to make the bargain."

Robin nodded, acknowledging the thought. "I decided to come myself to make sure everything goes in order," he declared, casting a look at Much that could be interpreted as him having doubts of his servant's abilities to handle any instructions he might have given.

Robin's words seemed to be convincing enough, and Djaq figured they would be able to seal the deal, unless someone started to suspect their true identity. They had discussed the possibility. At the end of the day they might even endanger anyone they traded with, if it were to be revealed they were outlaws, but then those could still plead ignorance. This important man of a town like York was certainly not in any greater danger by dealing with them – as unknowingly about them as he might be – as any small backer in Nottingham was who sold them bread for the poor for the money they had taken from the sheriff. It always worked as long as they were not caught.

Djaq hoped they would come to an agreement quickly. There was still the possibility of anyone recognizing them and deciding to collect the prize that was set on each of their heads in Nottinghamshire.

She knew that Robin had other intentions in the town as well. He hadn't explicatively told any of them about it, but she could understand that he wanted to explore if there were any information about what was going on in England to be gained as well, at least more than they would be able to learn in Nottingham.

Besides all of this, Djaq wondered about Allan. The man had appeared unusually reserved during their travel. She had wondered if it would be helpful to address him about any potential troubles he might have, but then she had also noticed the gazes Robin held on the man from time to time and had wondered yet more so if anything had happened between the two men that she didn't know about.

When she thought more about it, she remembered that both Robin and Allan had been keeping more to themselves ever since the autumn. While Robin had voiced several times that he trusted them as a team, he had still went on many sole tours, leaving even Much behind. But while she believed to know what was troubling Robin, she did not know what Allan was hiding. With the observations she made between the two, she could only muse if it was anything the two men, but nobody else, knew about.

Allan turned from where he had apparently looked at the goods the merchant was selling. Djaq met his glance with an open expression. She would invite him to talk later, if there was an opportunity. For now she decided to focus on Robin's dealings.

"I see this as an acceptable price," the merchant was saying, and Robin nodded.

"I will take this as a first delivery. I would require more later."

The other man smiled.

Djaq knew they didn't have money for more than what had already been agreed upon, but she figured that Robin was already coming up with some kind of plan. She could see in his face that he was satisfied.

"Thank you, sir, and I wish you a good travel home," the business man said then.

Robin's expression was still content. "I will stay here for a little while longer, but thank you." He nodded and turned to leave. Much once again led the way and Djaq was the last of the group to leave the house.

The first thing she saw outside was Will's questioning expression. "Did you get the food?"

Robin nodded. "Grains and peas. Enough to feed the most desperate."

"Good," Will nodded as well.

"I'm going to stay here with Much and Allan," Robin went on. "I want to see what else we can find out about the king. The rest of you need to ensure the delivery gets back to Sherwood, and to the villages. We'll follow behind with the rest when we get it."

Djaq knew they had to get the food to Nottingham as quickly as possible, but she left the three men behind with many questions on her mind.

* * *

The mood in the room was gloomy. The lighting seemed to fit the occasion, dark shadows filling most of the chamber, as Gisborne sat down in a chair opposite of the sheriff's. Dusk was come over the castle, but there had yet to be any candles lit in the chamber.

In the morning Prince John's spokesman had left, the sheriff remaining behind in a foul mood. Gisborne could understand him, and he did not feel cheerful either. If the sheriff lost his position, so most likely he would do as well; unless he had gained the attention of anyone powerful enough to assure his continuing status. Gisborne doubted it though; his attention and activities had always been focused on Vaysey.

He wondered what would be left to him. Little power surely. Locksley would remain his, unless a new sheriff saw fit to give it to a loyal man. He might be able to lead a life without power, a fairly comfortable one at Locksley, with a wife at his side... Yet, it would not fulfill all of his ambitions.

Guy watched the sheriff, who had yet to say anything since his entrance. There was no need to explain the situation of course. When they previously had attempted to raise more money, it had been to be able to pay for the loyalty of the Black Knights. Now their bare survival depended on their ability to give what the prince saw due. Gisborne was not even certain that Nottingham could have paid as much as demanded, if no funds had gone either to the Black Knights, or had been taken by Hood.

It had been quiet about the outlaw recently. Gisborne had at first blamed the weather, hoping the man would feel all the discomfort of the forest in the coldest nights of winter while he himself was sitting by a fire at Locksley. But then these thoughts, that were petty as he supposed, had not helped to explain why they had not heard from the man even when the weather had taken a turn to the better.

Of course, the autumn's events might have left a lasting impression on the outlaw. The humiliation in Nottingham might have driven any man away, never to return.

Despite all of this, Guy was still certain they would hear from Hood again. A few days ago there had been a skirmish in a small village far outside of Nottingham. Guards had been attacked and horses stolen and by all descriptions, Gisborne could be fairly certain that it had been Hood and his gang of outlaws who were responsible.

"There is to be a new tax, Gisborne," the sheriff said suddenly, and Guy was pulled out of his thoughts.

"A new tax, my Lord?"

"A carucage, or how do they call it," Vaysey continued and Gisborne thought he detected a familiar hint of boredom in the sheriff's voice. "It is to help paying for the king's ransom."

Gisborne nodded. They both knew that the prince had different intentions, but they were both certainly not going to argue with the man over that matter, as precarious as their situation already was.

"It will be based on the amount of land owned," Vaysey said with a grimace, Gisborne registering what the meaning of it was.

"Would the estate of Locksley have to pay as well?"

"Of course you will have to pay it, too!" the sheriff's voice was going up a notch. "Just get it back from your little peasants. They don't love you anyway, or do they?" he added with a smirk.

Gisborne frowned, hardly willing to discuss that matter with Vaysey. He had long decided that he did not need any admiration from the peasants. That was what they only were after all, peasants. They did not count.

"No, they love Hood!" Vaysey went on anyway, needing no encouragement from Guy. "I can hardly demand from him to pay though, now can I?" the man's anger was once again clearly showing. "Because of your incompetence, Gisborne! You are sitting there by your warm fire, while the outlaw is dancing on our noses!"

Gisborne knew this was hardly fair. Hood and his men had not shown their faces recently, so he had been given little opportunity to do anything against them. And after all, it was the sheriff's fault, his desire to play with his prey, that the whole band of outlaws was not long dead and forgotten.

Still, it was yet another thing he was not going to discuss with the man.

"So, for the sake of your life, Gisborne, in case you still have to realise this, do me the favour and make sure we get the tax in without any greedy outlaw laying their hands on it, yes?" Vaysey showed his teeth.

Guy only nodded briefly. "Yes, my Lord."

While he usually enjoyed the atmosphere of power that he gained from the sheriff, this feeling had not come as accustomed in recent times. The pressure on the sheriff was weighing on him, too. The dread of a loss of everything was there at every corner. It was the clearest when he thought back to the meeting with the prince's man the previous night.

But despite everything else that was on his mind, the most vivid memory of the evening was that of Marian trying to use the man's presence in her favour. It had not worked. Vaysey could not care less about the old man down in the dungeons, and surely wouldn't do anything to please Marian. It also didn't promise any goodwill from the prince's man for showing mercy to the old sheriff. And rightly so, Guy presumed. If Vaysey had promised himself any advantage from freeing Edward, he would have done so; he did not consider the weak and ill man a threat.

Guy felt slight regret for Marian's sake. She cared deeply about her father and had even come to Guy to ask for his release after all. He had tried with the sheriff once, but naturally the man had not relented. Gisborne knew there was no point in begging. He himself was willing to help Marian, but he would only go so far, would not risk his standing with Vaysey for the matter, especially as he considered the request in vain.

Marian had avoided him recently. He knew it was partly disappointment about his failure to help.

All in all, it had been a quiet winter so far, if it were not for the pressure and threat from London. The sheriff himself had been occupied, having spies and messengers that were providing him with frequent news about the king, the prince and many other matters that were going on in the country. Gisborne had spent much of his time alone, or trying to bring the castle's guards into shape, a hopeless endeavor for the most part, as he once again had to realise. But with Marian avoiding him and Hood not showing his face, there had been little else to do.

But then, only a few days ago, his little spy in Hood's gang had turned up again. Guy was not quite certain if he should be surprised or not. Sure, the man had not been around in a while, but then Gisborne had always figured that the promise of money would bring him back. Then the outlaw had told Guy the story of not wanting to spy for him anymore, because he had not intervened on the man's behalf when the outlaws were to hang in the autumn. Guy had enjoyed the tale. He was not taking it seriously; surely Allan would be back when he had not enough coins left, coins that he obviously craved.

By now the room had sunk into almost complete darkness. The sheriff was sitting in his chair, unmoving and Guy could only imagine the thoughts that had to be going through the man's head. It promised to be a long night.

"A candle, my Lord?" he suggested.

* * *

Night had fallen over Nottingham and Marian closed the small bag in front of her. It had to be enough. She had packed the Nightwatchman's outfit, after she had chosen not to wear it this night, as well as a few practical dresses and a couple of other belongings she didn't want to leave behind.

She knew there was no coming back after tonight. She did not plan to be caught in what she would do, but everyone, including the sheriff, would know it had been her.

Her plan was not fool-proof. She had paid a guard that would ensure they were able to leave the town, but from there they would have to make their way on foot, a carriage neither available nor advisable if they wanted to avoid detection. Marian had decided they were to go to Knighton first, a family there would surely be ready to give them shelter for a few hours. Any longer they would not be able to stay, the sheriff surely on their tracks by then. Marian was not certain where they would go then. There were the friends her father had mentioned to her, but how they were to reach them she did not know as of yet. They would have to organise a form of transport, her father being surely not able to walk far. She even doubted his strength to make it to Knighton and hoped she would be able to get a horse sometime during their flight.

To even get that far, she would have to risk everything. She had thought of ways to trick the jailer, but if those were not enough she would have to rely on force, her only advantage being that the malicious man down in the dungeons would not expect any such actions from her, a woman.

She knew the sheriff and Gisborne were occupied in yet another private conference after the prince's man had left in the morning. She had to use the opportunity.

With a last look at the room to determine if there was anything she had forgotten that she did not want to leave behind, she made her way out into the corridor, quietly closing the door behind her. The hallway lay in darkness. With silent steps she moved along, from time to time risking a glance back to see if anyone was coming her way. The chill of the night seemed to be getting to her even more so than normal, although she could also feel the apprehension inside of her. It wasn't a positive feeling. Although she had the hope that her desperate act tonight would end the fears that were connected with her father's imprisonment, she also knew that it could end fatally.

While she made her way down, taking each step of the stairs carefully, she wondered if she should have organised help. She had so often managed to work alone, had for a long time had no allies, but then there was Robin and his men, Robin, who had offered his help. She had declined because she had feared the consequences of any desperate actions. Now she was taken them herself because she felt to have no other way to save her father's life. And now the outlaws were not even here. It had only been a few days since Robin had told her that they were to leave for some time. She was certain they were not back yet; it would be futile to waste time and opportunities going to Sherwood Forest to see the camp and find it empty. So she was alone after all.

A guard stopped her at the entrance to the dungeons.

"Let me through," she said, as authoritatively as she could muster.

"It is late, my lady," the man replied unmoving.

"I want to see my father," she insisted, knowing she couldn't try and take out this guard without losing any hope of doing so with the jailer. "He is ill," she explained. "He is dying." The fact that her statement was true brought a lump into her throat that even the guard seemed to notice. "Please, let me see him." She couldn't lose this opportunity, not now that the sheriff and Gisborne were caught up in their own troubles, and were hardly paying attention to her. Not that her father had much time left in any way.

"A few minutes, my lady," the guard finally nodded.

Marian smiled gratefully and hurried downstairs into the dim corridor leaving towards the cells. With each step she took, her plan seemed to become more foolish. How on earth did Robin and his men always manage to escape from here?

As she walked towards her father's cell, she could see the jailer moving to her side with a wide grin on his face.

"Late night visit, my dear, mmh?"

"Leave us alone," Marian said coldly, not looking at the man.

He watched her for a few more moments, grimacing, before he turned halfway around to leave. Marian didn't hesitate any longer.

She hit the man squarely in the face and as he squeaked in surprise, another blow over the head followed, the man sinking down as a result. Marian was quick to remove the keys the man was carrying on his belt, plunging one of them into the lock of the cell Edward was occupying. The man had to give any reaction to the happenings as of yet. He was just staring at her as she entered the cell, the key in her hand.

"Marian."

She sank down on the cot next to him. "We're going to leave now," she promised.

"Where are you planning to go, if I may ask the question?" another voice was coming from outside of the cell.

Marian felt the realisation that everything was lost as sharp as the wonderment as to what had brought the man down here, when he was supposed to be in deep conversation with the sheriff, far up in the castle, far away from the misery the both men were creating down here. She knew she could not hide the fact of the unconscious jailer, nor that she was in possession of the keys, had taken them from the man.

The only question that seemed to remain was whether he was going to have her directly imprisoned with her father or whether he would have her taken away, to probably never see her father again.

As she turned to Guy, she would have expected to see more smugness in his expression, having caught her, but it was actually anger that she was seeing, despite the apparently well-chosen words he had spoken.

**TBC**


	6. Trust

**A/N: Thanks to Emmithar for the beta! :)**

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* * *

Chapter 6: Trust **

The torch on the bare stone wall flickered, the only movement for a few moments, as Marian held Gisborne's furious gaze, before she turned back to her father. The exhaustion shone on the man's face and through his whole posture, but now there was fear, too, fear for her, she knew. She could hear his laboured breathing and then the approaching foot steps of the other man.

"Get out," Gisborne said, his voice resounding in the quietness of the dungeons where no screams of pain echoed tonight, as the man who reveled in that kind of malice was lying on the ground outside the cell, unconscious. The anger Marian had previously seen in Guy's expression she could now also hear as he spoke.

She took her father's hand. It felt way too cold to her touch. "I'm not going to leave without my father," she replied, knowing her resistance would anger Guy even more so, but she had nothing to lose; she was caught.

"Get out," Guy repeated, stepping yet even closer to the open cell door, the key she had taken from the knocked-out jailer still in the lock.

Marian looked up again, once more meeting his gaze. This time she did not only see anger, but also something like a silent plea.

"He is dying," she said quietly.

"If you keep going like this, you will die with him," Gisborne returned and beyond the warning she could hear a touch of a threat in his voice. He took another step, reaching out to her and taking her arm.

"Come," he said in a way used to giving commands. He had not yet called the guards, Marian noticed and understood that he was offering her a way out, if she would leave her father behind and forget about it. At least this was how she interpreted his behaviour. Still, she shook her head; she could not go back.

Guy leaned in to her, glancing briefly at Edward, before turning to her, his expression grave. There was still an eerie silence around them, and the feeling of entrapment returned, as voluntary chosen as it might seem to be in his eyes.

"Let the old man die in peace. Don't risk your own life for this." His voice was low now, but she could hear that he had the hardest time not to just force her to go. It was only a matter of time until he would.

She didn't answer.

"In time..." Guy went on, but Marian looked away, trying to free her arm. Her view fell on the man who was lying on the floor outside of the cell.

"The jailer is going to know. He will tell the sheriff what happened," she pointed out, showing Guy that there was no way out for her but to let her go as she wanted.

"I can get rid of him," Gisborne returned matter-of-factly and Marian knew that he meant it.

"I'm not going to leave my father here," she repeated. Guy had to know she was serious. The matter had stood between them for weeks now; if he knew her better, or maybe if he were just willing to consider what he really knew, he could have imagined that it would come to this, that she would not just sit by and do nothing.

Guy shook his head at her insistence. "I cannot let you go." He scowled, grabbing her more tightly. "Why did you have to do this? You're acting foolishly, risking everything, for the old man..."

"If you don't let me go now, I'll try again later," she assured him.

He gritted his teeth. "The sheriff will catch you and then you'll both hang."

"Yes," she said simply.

There was silence until it was interrupted by the croaking voice from behind her. "Marian... go."

"No," she opposed her father, a sense of anger creeping into her.

Gisborne ignored the old man. "Even if you got him out of here, he wouldn't be able to make it far."

"We would need a carriage," Marian nodded once, trying to calm.

Guy looked at her for another long moment, before he turned around. "Get him up."

After a second she nodded, moving to Edward and helping him to sit up properly.

Guy meanwhile dragged the unconscious jailer into the cell. While her father was leaning on her and she encouraged him to stand up, she swallowed as she got a closer look at the sheriff's man who was lying face-down on the ground. She had missed it before in the dim light of the dungeons, but now she could see that the man was not actually unconscious, but dead. His throat had been slit and a pool of blood had collected under the man's face.

Gisborne had to have killed him in a moment that she had not paid attention to him. She shuddered at his efficiency.

He then moved to the outer dungeon's door and up the stairs that were illuminated by a flickering torch, and she could hear his voice sounding through the dimly lit place as he spoke to the guard outside.

"I am going to need a carriage to go to Locksley as soon as possible," he explained."Get me one. Now. I will take over guard.."

Marian could imagine that these orders perplexed the castle guard but she was sure he would follow them anyway, unwilling to get on the wrong side of the Master-at-Arms.

Every second of the next half an hour she was convinced the sheriff would catch on to them, either because he was alerted by a guard seeing them come out of the castle, step into the carriage, or go out of town, or by Gisborne himself turning them over. It was only when the carriage was well out of Nottingham's gates, on the way to Locksley, that she could breathe more easily.

Guy had stayed behind in Nottingham, having to conceal his involvement, as she knew, though he had left her with little explanation. The driver of the carriage had received instructions to take them to the village and to breathe no word to anyone save for the housekeeper of Locksley Manor who would take them into the house.

As she looked out into the darkness, the driver letting the horses go in a maddeningly slow pace to avoid any accidents, Marian started to make plans for their further escape, knowing that they would not be able to stay long at Locksley. Probably it would be best if they would be gone even before the present owner of the manor would have opportunity to follow them to Locksley. Still, the likelihood of this was slim. If she were on her own, escape would have been easier. She still would have needed to find shelter, but with her father as weak as he was, every step needed to be planned, a new sanctuary secured, before they could go on. In any way, they would have to leave as quickly as possible, and as they were driving through the woods outside of Nottingham, she knew that she wouldn't only have to leave Guy behind, but Robin as well.

* * *

Robin had left the horses with Much, taking Allan with him to follow his next plan. A few hours earlier Will, Djaq and John had left with the first part of the food for Nottinghamshire, but this was only one reason why Robin had chosen to come to York.

Much hadn't liked to be left out of Robin and Allan's tour, but Robin had told him quietly, out of Allan's earshot, that he was the one he trusted most and that he needed to take care of the horses as well as the little baggage they had brought from Sherwood. And truth was Robin still had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Perhaps it was the strain of the situation, of the unaccustomed feeling of not sneaking around, but acting openly in the town that made him feel this way. He didn't want to leave Allan with the horses only to find later that their means of transport back to Nottingham was gone.

Robin gritted his teeth as he thought about it, realising that was he was possibly being unfair to Allan. He still didn't have any solid proof that confirmed Marian's suspicion, but it was probably a good thing that he could keep an eye on the man. He had long suppressed the question. The worries about there being a traitor had come up again from time to time, but he had shoved them aside, feeling that it was only the sheriff's poison that was working its way into his mind and his dealings with the gang. It was one thing Vaysey would love to see, the outlaws mistrusting each other. But then Allan's strange behaviour in Nottingham and Marian's suspicion had coincided, and it had caused the doubt to be on Robin's mind near-constantly, especially now that he could afford it the least to have a traitor work against them.

They were making their way through York now, slowly moving through the cobblestoned streets up to the castle. Robin had every intention to talk to some of the nobles at court, although he wasn't quite sure if they were willing to speak to him. While the merchant had had an interest in turning a blind eye and forgetting about any knowledge he might have about who Robin was known as today, the nobles would have no such interest. They might refuse to even acknowledge him, a wise move naturally, if it was known he was an outlaw. They might even alert the Sheriff of York, maybe some of them were even hand in hand with Vaysey, might even happen to be Black Knights. On the other hand there might be nobles loyal to King Richard, too, men who maybe knew of Robin's stance, who just might be willing to help.

Robin was slightly frustrated about the amount of uncertainty in his plan. This was yet another disadvantage of not working in the system as Marian and Edward had advised him to do right after his return from the Holy Land. He had lost connection to the nobles, a source of any information that concerned the kingdom. The nobles were useless when it came to helping the poor, most of them not caring at all about these matters, but when it came to supporting the king, they were crucial, he alone having no stance in the politics of the country, especially as an outlaw. Nowadays though, one could not even know anymore who was not secretly trying to get rid of King Richard, no matter what they claimed outwardly.

Allan caught up with Robin, as he had slowed his step.

"So what are we going to do first?"

"Go to the castle," Robin repeated the obvious matter-of-factly, moving faster again.

"And you think they'll let us walk in there just like that?" Allan wondered.

"If they don't, we get in _our _way."

"And then?"

"You'll see," Robin replied impatiently, unsettled by Allan's questions. He now wished to have taken Much with him. The man would ask all kinds of things too, would rattle on about many matters, but at least Robin would be able to trust him absolutely.

Robin now felt the emptiness on his back even more so. He hadn't taken his bow and quiver with him, leaving it with Much as well, as not to appear too much like he had come for a battle when he entered the castle. His sword at least was at his side.

"Why don't we just visit the nobles at their homes?" Allan shrugged. "We'd get them alone, instead of here at the castle, with the guards and all. I'm just saying."

"We don't have time for that."

Allan didn't reply anything to that and Robin didn't bother to add any further explanation. Allan had to know just as well that their time was limited. They would have to go and take another part of the food back to Nottinghamshire where it was needed. Before that they had to gather as much information as possible.

As they had almost reached the castle yard, Robin turned to address the man again, to give him further orders, but found himself staring at empty air. No wonder it had been so quiet. Robin frowned.

They didn't have any time for detours...

He walked back a few paces, looking around corners to see if he could spot Allan anywhere. He only saw empty alleys, the only sounds coming from the work of a blacksmith at the other side of the street, a rhythmic clanging sounding through the neighbourhood. Robin shook his head in annoyance, deciding to move on without the other outlaw. Allan would hear about this later on. He turned around again, intending to move on where he had been heading to.

He had only enough time to see the shine of metal coming his way.

* * *

Much was nervous and the horses seemed to be nervous too, which made him even more agitated, especially because neither Robin nor Allan had returned yet from the trip they had undertaken. Robin had assured him earlier that they would be back before dark, would seek shelter somewhere then, right when he had also told Much that he trusted him and that was why he was leaving the horses in his care.

By that logic, Much figured, Robin didn't trust Allan. Why he was taking the man with him on this important mission then, he didn't know.

Much kept by the horses that were tied up not far away from where they had dealt with the merchant. As the day came to a close, he watched people walking by, carrying food and water from the well to their homes. His own stomach had started protesting, too. He wondered what he was supposed to do once the night came. He would probably be expected to stay here, to keep looking after the horses and the little baggage they carried. Even Robin's bow was there, the man having decided to leave it behind. Much had not understood why, but was glad that the man had at least taken his sword.

The night would become a cold one though, the winter not yet passed and the sky a clear one during the day. Much wished they were back at camp, shivering already now, and moved to pull out another tunic, fearing it wouldn't help much. At the same moment someone stepped next to the horse and Much looked up in surprise to see Allan there, looking rather worn and... wet. Much frowned, glancing up in the sky and seeing no trace of cloud there.

"Where have you been?" he then asked Allan who was rubbing his head. Much looked around. "And where's Robin?"

Allan seemed confused, the weariness in his face rather increasing. "He hasn't come back yet?"

"You went together!" Much exclaimed, not believing the question. "Where is he?"

The other man shrugged and the gesture angered Much. "Don't know, honestly," Allan said. Glancing around and seeing that no one else was near, he added, "I've honestly no idea what happened. I just woke up a few streets from here. Bar maid poured a bucket of water over me. Not being funny, but I figured the two of you would be here."

"Why would she do anything like that?" Much wondered, now pulling the tunic he had retrieved over his head.

"Thought I'd had too much at the inn," Allan shrugged again.

"You were at the inn? You were supposed to go with Robin! Now he's in trouble for sure, and you were out drinking?" Much couldn't believe it.

Allan held up his hands. "I wasn't, I swear. I was with Robin. And then I was out on the street. Honestly, I've got no clue what happened."

Much was alarmed. "We have to find Robin!" The man was surely in trouble.

Allan looked around again. "We can go look there where I last saw him, but if he hasn't come back yet..." His glance fell at the horses. "What are we going to do with them?"

Much shook his head. "Robin..." He retrieved the small bag of supplies from his horse, before he looked at Allan, expecting the man to do the same. But the other outlaw just stood there.

"Aren't you going to come? You have to show me where you and Robin went to."

"I'm going to take care of the horses," Allan said simply, motioning up to the castle. "We went up towards the castle yard."

"What is wrong with you?" Much asked, growing tired of this. Robin hadn't wanted to leave Allan with the horses, had said that he only trusted Much with them and their baggage, so why would Much now leave Allan with them?

The man held out his hands. "Look, we don't even know where Robin is. Looking around here isn't going to do us any good, apart from getting one over the head again. I've got no idea what happened, but I sure didn't land in that alley on my own."

"So you just want to leave Robin all by himself?"

"He can take care of himself. What do we know? He's probably just snooping around somewhere, figuring he's better on his own."

"He needs us!" Much declared angrily. How could the other man not understand this? "The last time-"

"It sure wasn't us who saved him the last time. I'm not kidding, but we don't know exactly what happened. It's not like Robin told us anything."

Much had been about to continue arguing his point, but fell silent, when he realised that he did not even need to know what instance Allan was talking about now. The man could mean the days back in the autumn, when the gang had almost met their ends in Nottingham, and something had hit Robin deeply, though Much did not know to this day what it was, as his former master had never told him. Or Allan could be talking about now, for neither did Much know in detail what Robin had planned for this day.

What he knew was that Robin had wanted information, and that he had planned to go up to the castle. According to Allan this was what they had been about to do, when they had been separated, by whatever means this had happened. But Much also wondered if he could even rely on Allan with this, as Robin's words wandered back in his mind, that he did not trust the other outlaw. And Robin surely had his reasons for that. Much did not know them, but neither did he have any idea where he was even supposed to start looking for his friend.

**TBC**


	7. Consequences

**A/N: Once again thanks to Emmithar for the beta! :)**

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**Chapter 7: Consequences**

Robin came to in darkness. He noticed quickly that he couldn't move and a sudden fear of claustrophobia came over him as he realised that he couldn't see anything because some kind of sack had been pulled over his head. He could feel the material on his face, the cloth tightened around his neck. Whoever had done this didn't have a friendly attitude towards him.

Robin tried to calm his breaths, banning memories of the last time he had been in a situation like this. After a few moments, he once again attempted to move his arms, but found them bound, he himself lying on his side. He lifted his head and a pounding that he had previously only felt in the back of his head rang through it. That was where he had been hit, so much was sure, though he knew little else.

"You could have killed him, you fool!"

The voice came suddenly and it didn't help Robin get rid of the sense of disorientation he felt, for he could not even place where it had come from. The accusation surely wasn't directed at him.

"Then he's dead, what do we care? We get the money anyway."

Robin let out a breath that he had held. So it was as he had suspected.

"He's worth more alive."

"He's worth more dead than not at all. Why do you think he hasn't been hanged yet? You know what they say: a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."

"I say we get him to the sheriff, get the full price for delivering him alive, and he can deal with him."

Robin was still, listening intently to what was said, though the words could not be missed, even if he had wanted to. He knew he could not fight back in this position.

"You think the sheriff is going to pay us the full price when he has to get him to Nottingham and risk Hood getting away? The Sheriff of Nottingham wouldn't pay a penny."

"Not our problem. Maybe we don't get the full price, but it will be enough, and we don't have to go to Nottingham." The man was silent for a moment. "I don't want to go there and turn up empty handed in case something's wrong with him. I don't feel like having a rope around my neck just yet."

No one said anything for some moments and then Robin could hear and feel foot steps beside him, hoping that whoever had wanted him alive had won the argument. He was pulled upwards then and to his feet, the rope remaining around them though, so that he could only move forward in tiny steps as he was pulled along.

"Who are you?" he asked then, his voice muffled through the sack, the inside of which was slowly turning warm and he could feel the moisture that was collecting from his hurried breaths.

He didn't receive any answer. Instead he was shoved ahead and Robin stumbled helplessly forward. One time he stopped, he could feel the tip of a sword against his back moments later. After some minutes they halted, he could hear that a door was opened and then he was pushed forward again, this time falling to his knees as he lost his balance.

"We've got Hood!" one of the man who had argued earlier called, as far as Robin could tell.

"Are you sure?"

The next moment, someone pulled off the sack that had been over Robin's head and as dim as the light was, it still burned in his eyes, and he shut them against it, not able to take in his surroundings for more than a split-second.

"Look at his face. This is Hood."

Robin didn't know how accurate the descriptions were that these people had, but he knew there was no point in arguing against the fact that it was indeed him. If he were actually able to convince these men that he was not Robin Hood, they would easily be motivated to get rid of him. For now he was more likely to stay alive if they believed him to be indeed who they thought he was, someone who would earn them money.

He opened his eyes slowly, the earlier sting from the light weakened now.

One of the men grunted an affirmation. "Take him to the dungeon. The sheriff will deal with this later."

"Our money?"

Robin turned his head to see the sheriff's man lift a small sack that he guessed to contain coins. He threw it and a lean, tall man caught it eagerly.

He opened the bag and looked into it, before he argued, "What about the rest? He's worth more than that." With that he gestured towards Robin.

"What business does the Sheriff of York have with me?" Robin questioned, guessing he could just as well try to find out more about the situation.

The sheriff's man ignored him though, looking at the two men who had taken Robin instead. "You'll get the rest once we're sure it's really Hood." Then he turned to several guards at the other side of the room that Robin only noticed now. "Take him away."

Robin figured there was no point in trying anything with the men and went quietly with the guards, paying attention to remember the way they took down to the dungeons, glad he had not been blindfolded again. He was slowly starting to regret having come to York as openly as he had. He had known the risk for sure, but had been aware as well that this was the best way to get both the food the people needed, as well as the information he desired.

Information he had none now, instead he had walked straight into what looked like a trap. On the other hand, he could not be sure that there really had been a trap and that the two men who had knocked him out had not simply been lucky. One thing was sure though; they wouldn't have been able to overwhelm the whole gang of outlaws. Robin being alone and distracted had done the part. With that thought came back the wonder as to where Allan was, the man who had been supposed to be at his side.

Robin had to draw himself back out of his ponderings, as not to miss to remember the turns they were taking on their way downwards. They were still going rather slowly, as he was not able to move any easier than before. Soon though an iron gate was pulled aside and Robin shoved forward once again. Another door was opened and Robin landed in the dungeon's of York, seeing immediately that he wasn't alone there.

Before the cell was closed, a guard removed the bounds that had held him before, leaving him then with the pale faces of the other poor souls that had were imprisoned there.

The Sheriff of York didn't seem to be of more mercy than the Sheriff of Nottingham, for the cell was overcrowded with people, young and old. Or maybe the sheriff was actually more merciful, for Robin figured that Vaysey tended to empty his cells by means of the gallows outside.

He could only wonder on whose mercy he had to rely on now, and what Much and Allan were doing, who had to be somewhere out there. He feared them risking their lives, if they were to try to come for him, but then he doubted he had a chance to get out of this place on his own.

There was a time when he used to believe that he would always be able to get out of dire situations like these. But the events of last autumn still caused troublesome ideas in his mind. Back then, he had given up, had not believed in escape anymore, had maybe for a time not even wanted it anymore. He did not know now, how he had survived. Despite his doubts as to the possibility of doing so, he knew that he had to find a way out; he couldn't stand facing a triumphant Sheriff of Nottingham. And there were so many things that needed to be done.

* * *

It was in the hours of the early morning that Marian and Edward arrived in Locksley. Once they had pulled up in front of the manor, Marian directed the driver to get Thornton quietly. The servant soon hurried out of the house and looked into the carriage, an expression of surprise on his face when he recognized Marian. Thornton knew her of course; she had been at Locksley often enough back when she and Robin had been betrothed. And she had been here after the time that she had agreed to marry Guy. It seemed no matter what life had brought her, she was to come here after all.

"Sir Guy was so kind to permit us shelter here," she said then, and Thornton nodded without a question. He led them into the house, also helping Edward along, the man sinking down on an offered chair just moments after they had entered the manor.

"Will Sir Guy come here tonight as well?" Thornton asked then.

Marian hesitated. Would he come, too? No, she believed he would stay at the castle, would not risk their exposure by rushing all of a sudden to Locksley. She shook her head. "No, I do not think so."

The servant nodded. "I will show you to the guest quarters. Do you have any luggage?" He looked from Marian to Edward.

"Only this," Marian replied, showing her bag. She wasn't willing to hand it over to anyone, fearing that they might have to go at a moment's notice, if the sheriff learned that they were here.

Thornton nodded again. Marian knew that he had to be aware of their situation. He had surely heard of the fate of the old sheriff and could certainly only doubt the mercy of the new sheriff to let him go all of a sudden. Their nocturnal appearance told a clear enough story.

"Will you require anything else tonight?" he asked then.

Marian wanted to say no, until she remembered her plan, and nodded. "I will need some paper, please. I need to set up letters to friends, so I can send them off in the morning."

The man took this in and then showed them to the promised quarters. Marian could only thank God that they had received the help. As she watched her father climb the stairs to his room, she knew that he would not even have made it out of Nottingham on foot. The old man was out of breath when they arrived in the chamber, and she could only hope that he would feel better quickly, now that he had escaped the dungeons.

He was asleep even before Marian had left the room. She closed the door quietly, feeling a strange sensation to be in this house, when its owner wasn't there, neither the current, nor the old one.

When she entered the small room that was to be her bed chamber for her stay, she wondered what the future would bring. The letters to her father's friends were quickly written. The words had to be chosen carefully, but still she had to make haste, if she wanted them to be on the way in the morning. Even if they found a welcome soon, and a letter would be send back immediately, it would still be a few days before they would hear anything. Every single day they could be found. She could only hope that Guy would not lose his nerve, would not decide that the sheriff was more important after all. She knew he wasn't in an easy position, out of his perspective. While in her mind there were things that needed to be done because they were right, despite the risks that might be connected to them, it was not easy to share this belief with someone who had a fully different view of the world. She had no doubt that it was not compassion that had caused Gisborne to act this way. She knew it was only because of her.

Once the letters were done, Marian stood up and moved to the small window. It gave her a view over a part of the village, the forest visible in the background. She knew that the outlaw's camp was not far from there. Then she remembered that nobody would be there at the moment. The gang had certainly left, as Robin had told her they would do. He had not confided to her where they would go. She had a few ideas where they might be able to buy food for the villages, though she did not know how Robin planned to do this. He would not be able to act in secret, and this caused a new worry in her, at the thought of him exposing himself, somewhere out there. She did not know how far the influence of the Sheriff of Nottingham reached, but she could imagine that the man had enough of an interest in Robin that he would try to make this as far as possibly, even beyond the reach of his own authority.

Marian also remembered the question about a traitor in the gang that had been raised between her and Robin. She had not thought about the matter since their last farewell, but as far as she could tell, Gisborne was not receiving any new information about the outlaws. But then, she had probably been too distracted to pay much attention to it. Gisborne on the other hand, had also his own share of problems, connected to the pressure that the sheriff was under from London.

She watched the trees move slightly in the wind of the early morning, the sun slowly going up in the east. She felt a short desire to go out and into the forest, to see if Robin had returned after all. But then she decided that she had to plan a further escape, a matter in which Robin would not be able to help. Any excursion she might undertake would only increase the risk that she and her father were detected. She could not go, just on the small hope that the outlaws were already back. She knew in the best case she would only stay here at Locksley for a few days, then travel on to whoever of her father's friends outside of Nottinghamshire was willing to shelter them. If everything went well in her plan, they would likely be gone before the gang returned to the woods around Locksley.

* * *

Guy closed the door to his room behind him, letting out a breath that he seemed to have hold for too long. He looked into the spare room that was still mostly engulfed in darkness, the sun not having come up. The night was not yet over.

He didn't know if he had made the right decision. He had fought against it, knowing that it endangered everything he had worked for, to go against the sheriff. He had fed his anger at her foolishness, the one that was forcing him into this position. Marian had acted misguidedly, and it enraged him how she did, risking to destroy everything... But then this did not mean he could deliver her to the gallows. At the end he did not have a choice but to help her, as she stubbornly refused to see reason.

He had acted quickly. The jailer was the first one he killed. It would be no loss to the world. He had organised the carriage then, knowing the old man would never be able to walk far. The castle guard who had been on duty at the dungeons and who Guy had ordered to get the carriage, had later found his end, too, once Marian and Edward were safely out of Nottingham. Gisborne guessed that Marian would not approve of the killing, but then she did not know about it, and had at the same time forced him to do it, for the safety of both of them.

Guy was occupied in thoughts, when he heard a knock at the door behind him. Without a word he swung it open and saw a young boy standing outside, probably employed to run errands, and definitely startled both bv Gisborne's sudden appearance and demeanor.

"What is it?"

"There's a letter for you, Sir," the boy said as quickly as possible. "The messenger just arrived."

Guy looked down at the folded paper in the other's hand. He grabbed it and closed the door to his chamber again. A glance at the writing on the letter didn't confirm his first idea. It wasn't from Marian, sending a quick note after having arrived at Locksley. Then he noted that her foolishness did not extend that far, sending a red flag for the sheriff to see. He cared little what else the letter could be, having no mind for any of the sheriff's business at the moment. He threw it aside and stepped to the window of the still dark room, looking down into the courtyard. It lay just as dark.

He didn't find any more sleep that night, but he doubted the sheriff would even notice if his mind was not with the present, as occupied as the man currently was. The meeting from last night had not resulted in anything. They were both keenly aware that Vaysey's position was in danger. It would only be a matter of time before the prince would act, installing a man he trusted more in helping him achieve his goals, whatever those were at the present situation.

Gisborne's attention had been distracted by the trouble with Marian and now he found himself caring little to return to the matter. He knew they would not be able to fulfill the prince's demands. They would not suddenly catch Hood and his gang, would not suddenly be able to collect – and deliver - more taxes. What Guy wanted to do now, was to ride to Locksley and ensure that everything was going alright there. Maybe if he kept a cool mind, if he did not connect his fate too close with Vaysey's, he might be able to keep his own position and estate. It was a strange thought, considering his earlier anger about the risk he had been forced to take, the one that he feared to destroy his stand with the same man.

Just after the sun had appeared at the horizon, Gisborne set out to walk down to the stables. He knew he still had to stay a while before he could ride off to Locksley, but he could just as well have his horse readied. When he walked down the steps to the yard, two castle guards hurried up to him, not to his surprise.

"Sir," they greeted him quickly and Guy came to a stop, looking at them from where he stood.

"I want my horse readied," he said, knowing the guards would have no mind for that.

"Sir, there is a problem," one of the men said. "The jailer has been killed down in the dungeons and a prisoner escaped." The man was pale and Gisborne could imagine why. It was very well possible that the messenger of such a message would regret having gotten up that day.

"When did this happen?" Guy questioned with a scowl.

"At night, Sir," the same man said, glancing at first briefly at his colleague, apparently hoping for support, before his gaze went upwards and over Gisborne's shoulder.

Guy turned his head to see the sheriff descending the stairs down from the castle.

"Now, Gisborne, what do you say to that?"

The man came to a stop several steps higher than where Gisborne stood, causing him to still tower over the Master-At-Arms despite their natural difference in height.

"You have heard about it, my Lord?"

The sheriff smirked, but Gisborne could see that he was not enjoying himself as much as he often did, the pressure that was lying on all of them still shining through. "Of course I have heard. Your little leper has run off with her daddy and killed my jailer on the way out."

In Gisborne's opinion Vaysey seemed to care too little about the jailer's death, not because of any human emotion the man might have, but because the sheriff usually minded if someone interfered with his order.

"I'm sorry about the loss, my Lord," Guy nodded his head. "The man... had his competences."

Vaysey looked at him silently for a moment. "Gisborne, do you think I care about that? A clue: no!" He came down the rest of the stairs with more energetic strides than before. "There are enough incompetent people around here who can fill the job." He grimaced. "But your leper...." he turned around to Gisborne, while the two castle guards tried to become invisible, "she's going to hang, once I get her." Vaysey smirked. "Be glad she ran away from the altar, Gisborne! You wouldn't want a scandal like that in your dear family, now would you?"

Guy's heart seemed to have stopped for a moment, but now it was beating hurriedly in his chest.

"She was helping her father," he said lamely, not even knowing himself if he wanted to accuse her of that or pointed it out as an excuse.

"Who cares, Gisborne? The old man will be dead soon, but the little misses showed that she isn't better than a common criminal."

Guy just stared down at the man who was now standing next to him.

"What is it, Gisborne? Are we disappointed?" Vaysey smiled now. "I told you: never trust any lepers."

Gisborne nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. "Yes, my Lord."

He looked up again, wondering what the sheriff was going to do. He also wondered what he was to do. How long would he be able to hide Marian and her father at Locksley, how long would he have to make sure no living soul save for his personal servants knew about it? He felt various stings of regret, for once, for even having become tangled in the mess by helping her, and else, for casting that danger of hanging for the murder of the jailer over her, no matter that he believed the sheriff would kill her in any way, if he were to apprehend her.

"I want you to take a few guards and search the villages to see if she and daddy are hiding anywhere. I don't think the old man can go far," Vaysey ordered him then, and Guy nodded again, turning to go. "But don't waste much time on this, Gisborne," the sheriff continued. "We have more important matters to deal with, though I know we all could need a little relaxation once in a while. A hanging party with the leper as our special guest would do all of us good, I'm sure."

With that, the sheriff skipped up the stairs to the castle again, clearly in a much better mood than when he had come down.

**TBC**


	8. Fate

**A/N: I'm obviously busier betaing Emmithar's chapters than writing my own, but finally we have a new chapter here as well :) Thanks to Em for betaing this! **

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****Chapter 8: Fate**

Guy had taken a few guards and had listlessly searched the villages around Nottingham. 'Searched' was probably an exaggerated description of what he had done, for he knew well enough that Marian and Edward were not there to be found. After a while, he had sent the guards back to Nottingham, while he himself had turned his horse on the way to Locksley.

The day had taken much of its course by now, it being well into the afternoon when he finally arrived at the manor. The building lay quiet, showing nothing of the surprise that must have taken place at night, when Marian arrived here.

Gisborne slid off his horse and a stable boy came running towards him, relieving him of the animal. He entered the manor and it took only a few moments before Thornton arrived to greet him. The man had always kept a suitable manner with him, no matter what he might think of him compared to his former master. Now the man was looking grave though.

"Sir Guy," he greeted him.

"Have Lady Marian and Sir Edward arrived well?" Guy asked, removing his gloves.

Thornton nodded. "Lady Marian is well. Sir Edward though, I fear, is not."

Guy gestured his acknowledgement, having suspected as much. He had known that Edward was very sick, and though the dungeon might have fastened his deterioration, Guy doubted that simply being out of there would restore his health.

"Where is she?"

"Lady Marian is with her father in the upper guest chamber."

Guy left the man behind, moving up the stairs quickly, slowing down only when he arrived in front of the door of the said room. He knocked carefully before he entered.

Marian sat by the bed, Edward apparently sleeping. When he looked at the man, Guy could not even be certain that he was still alive, if it had not been for the rising and falling of his chest. Marian looked pale as well, and he guessed that she had not slept at all.

He hated to see her this way, though a new flare of regret rose in him at the thought of the risk she – and he – had taken to free an old man who would not live more than a few days at the most.

"Come downstairs," he found himself saying then and Marian nodded with a glance at her father.

Guy was slightly surprised by this, almost having expected that she would refuse to leave Edward's side, but maybe she also felt a sense of obligation towards the owner of the home. He frowned at the thought, as Marian walked down the stairs in front of him. He didn't want her to be friendly towards him just because she felt she had to. He had made this mistake before, but he knew her better now. They would never become what he wanted them to be, if it was not on her genuine terms. He felt that he deserved her gratitude for what he had done for her, but it had to honest, not because she thought she had to express it.

As they arrived downstairs, and she turned towards him in the main room of the manor, he considered that he could just as easily trap her. On her terms, she would never become his wife, if she would not feel genuine cordial sentiments for him, and he was uncertain if he was ever to achieve that. But just as he had tried before, and more forceful now, he could tell her that he was the only one who could protect her. It was the truth. If he were to tell the sheriff what he knew, she would be as good as dead.

If he protected her though, they could become man and wife - after a suitable period of mourning. Guy would be able to convince the sheriff that it had not been her who had killed the jailer, not that Vaysey cared either way. The sheriff only saw the disturbance of his authority, rebellion, that was what she would die for, if Guy would not protect her.

Gisborne suppressed these thoughts as he invited Marian to sit down, calling for a servant to bring two glasses of wine. Marian was silent, the worry showing clearly on her face.

"The sheriff has no trace of you," Guy assured her then, and she nodded.

"Thank you."

They were silent for a few moments and the servant returned with the wine, pouring in two glasses. Guy took his, while Marian's remained untouched.

"Will you stay here?" he asked then, taking care to imply that he wished her to do so.

Marian frowned. "I have written to friends of my father... and the sheriff-"

"-will not know you are here unless he learns it from me." His voice was firm. It had to be clear to both of them that Edward would die soon. Guy could see in her eyes that she knew the truth of this, even though she did not voice it. And Marian could not leave on her own; Guy would not allow it...

"I cannot hide forever," she said then and he knew it to be true.

It was not his intention for her to be hiding forever. Once the first storm had calmed, he would be able to convince the sheriff that she was just a girl who had acted foolishly out of love for her father and that no harm had been done. Valuing Gisborne's services he would surely excuse her and she would be safe as the Lady Gisborne. That was all, if the sheriff was able to hold onto his position of course.

Still, inside he still wondered if he would want this to happen, if she had not genuine feelings for him. Would he want to live year after year knowing that his wife was only his because of entrapping circumstances? He had believed before that he would want to, would want to make her his on any terms. Maybe the feeling would come later, later when she had had time to get to know his worth, see that he was an honourable man. He had committed sins he could not easily forget, but still, she would see the man he truly was, once she came to know him.

"I should go upstairs again," Marian said suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He nodded. He would not keep her from spending her father's last hours in the man's presence. As stupid as her actions had been, she would at least have this consolation, to be with him. She went upstairs and he was left alone with his thoughts, having little inclination to return to Nottingham now.

If it were not for the trouble Vaysey was in, things would have been almost peaceful. No outlaws of Hood's gang had been sighted in days, no tax collectors ambushed, no storages broken into. Gisborne could almost imagine Hood and the outlaws disappearing forever... maybe they had all run away from Hood, an understandable act, considering the arrogant fool the man was... maybe Hood had decided to be close to his beloved king and had left England all together...

Guy shook his head, realising that he had indulged in too much of the heavy wine. He didn't really believe any of this, life was not fair as this, and the little spy he had in Hood's gang had not mentioned anything of such a nature. Not that he had been willing to tell Guy anything at their latest meeting, no matter that Guy had no doubt the man would come crawling back at some point.

He stood up to follow Marian upstairs. Instead of going into the room where her father was lying, he walked into the other small chamber. The fresh covers of the bed hadn't been touched, but still he knew that she had been in here, the small bag she had been carrying with her the last night visible on the wooden chair the room provided. Guy wondered what kind of things she had chosen to take on an escape like this, having known that she would not return to the castle. He knew she didn't own many things anymore, most of it having been destroyed when he had burnt down Knighton Hall. She had a number of dresses, some of them he had given her during the time she had stayed at the castle. He wondered if they were among those she had chosen to take along.

He could see that the bag was open, a garment hanging out of it, probably left from when Marian had went over to her father's room in a hurry. He slowly walked through the room, looking down at the cloth, recognizing it as a dress that he considered way too simple for her. Further down he could spy something that looked like a brown cloak...

"Guy."

Her voice startled him, and only the awareness of the help he had granted her kept him from feeling real shame about intruding her privacy. He knew he could have searched her belongings at any time during the last night, when he had caught her in the dungeon.

Still, he turned his gaze from her belongings, failing to apologize though, but Marian did not argue about it, though she seemed troubled. Her father, he remembered.

"May we get some food brought up to my father's room?" she questioned. As he looked at her, the memory of the last night was still on his mind, and for now he was glad about the decision he had made, his insides twisting at the thought of the alternative scenario.

He nodded and followed her out of the chamber.

* * *

The dungeons of York were not a less dreary place than the ones in Nottingham. The main difference was probably that this one housed considerably more people. Although he had no plans in staying there for long, Robin knew he had little choice in the matter for now, so he found himself a place to sit down, leaning against the wall and watching the other prisoners, some of them observing him openly in return.

As little as he wanted the man to succeed in this, he knew that the fact that the Sheriff of York seemed to intend to sell him to Vaysey was his lifesaver for now. Of course, if this were not the case, nobody would have had any interest in even apprehending him in the first place, as he had done nothing to disturb the peace in York. But now that it had happened, he knew at least that no one would have an interest in his swift death. Only a messenger from the Sheriff of Nottingham, potentially carrying a heavy purse for the one in York, would change that, but Robin still guessed that Vaysey would want to deal with him personally.

"What's your name?" someone asked all of a sudden and Robin was not even certain which of the men, who were sitting in the dim light that only came through cracks in the wall and from a distant torch outside of the cell, had said it. "Not that it really matters," the man added, and Robin could now determine who it was.

"Robin," he answered simply.

The man nodded briefly.

"What is new in the world?" another one questioned and Robin frowned. What could he mean?

"What do you want to know?" he started carefully.

"Just something new. Days become rather long in here, you know. Something we old men can talk about." The man paused with a grin. "Doesn't matter if it's the sheriff's wife having a new man, the treasurer finally losing his marbles, or the king returning."

Robin smiled at that, his expression turning to a frown then as he wondered how much these people even knew about what was going on in England. The common people had usually little reason to care about these matters in any way; the ones imprisoned here probably had even less. Men like Robin were a different matter, they were hoping for regained freedom once the king would come back to England.

"The king?" Robin prompted then.

Some of the men laughed. "Yes, the king. Tom boy here," he pointed at a teenage boy, "who was the last to come here before you, told us that the king is sitting in a dungeon just like we are." The man laughed again. "The world is a funny place, isn't it?"

Robin nodded. "Have you heard anything else about it?"

"You're curious about that, aren't you?" Tom wondered.

"We like to hear stories to pass the time," the man who had asked after Robin's name explained. "But who knows who will be king next time they take one out to the gallows." He shook his head.

"How long have you been here?" Robin asked then, nodding towards him.

The other frowned, turning towards a yet older man, who was sitting against the wall at the far back. "Harry, what date is today?"

The old man turned his face towards the wall and Robin could see that he lifted his hand and touched the wall, letting it slide downwards slowly, mumbling to himself at the same time.

"The 5th of March, in the year 1193 of our Lord."

"So I have been here for nearly seven years now," the other man said with a short nod.

Robin couldn't believe it. How could anyone survive seven years in this place? He knew that people were locked up never to be released again, but they usually died soon, few lived year after year. Not in Nottingham anyway, the sheriff hanging most people in a quick manner there.

"You've been here even before King Richard went off to the Holy Land," Robin said quietly, talking more to himself than to the other. He himself had not yet left for the Holy Land at that time... It was so long ago, a completely different life... He wondered what had caused the man to end up in the dungeons of York, but felt that he had already asked too much.

"You're right, my boy, but this sheriff doesn't enjoy hangings as much as others do. He sometimes has some poor souls hang, or maybe they are lucky, depends how you see it, but most of us are here to stay."

The man fell silent then and Robin noticed that the quiet murmur that had been going on between the other prisoners had ceased as well. People seemed to listen for something. He didn't want to interrupt, so he listened, too.

After a while, quiet conversations started again and Robin looked around confused. "What was this about?"

A man who was sitting next to him smiled slightly. "Didn't you hear them?"

"The church bells. Calling for morning service," another explained. "We always listen to them. Keeps you connected to the world, in a way."

Robin nodded again, his mind troubled with the idea of being in this place for years, as many of these people seemed to have endured.

"Cheer up, my boy," the man next to him finally said. "Or are you one the sheriff wants to see dangle?"

Robin shook his head. "Not this one."

* * *

As he rode out of the town of York, he could hear the ringing of the church bells behind his back, calling for the morning service, but Allan knew he would not be caught there. He held the ropes to the other two horses he was taking along, still riding as quickly as he could towards the forest outside of the town.

He was tired and needed a nap urgently. He had been on his feet the whole night, after Much had argued long enough, causing him to come along in the man's search for Robin. Naturally, they had not found their leader, this being no surprise to Allan, who figured that Robin had either gone off on his own, or had met trouble. In both cases neither Much nor Allan would be able to help, if they did not even know where he was.

Much had not seen reason though, no matter that Allan had decided to call it a day in the early morning hours. He had told the man that he would seek shelter in the forest, that they both needed to rest before they would continue the search, but Much had not listened. The man was now still wandering through the streets of the town, while Allan had chosen to take care of their horses and belongings. Much did not seem to even care about this anymore, no matter that he had previously insisted that Robin had told him personally to stay with the animals. Allan believed to have heard the man mutter something about not needing any horse anyway, as he was not going to ride back to Nottingham without Robin.

Allan guessed that this was true, though he did not know what he was to do. He was worried for Robin, yes, but he did not think there was much they could do on their own. He figured it still meant he and Much would have to keep looking, an alternative being only to ride to Sherwood Forest to find the others and get them to help. Much would not agree with this though, certainly unwilling to risk the passing of time they would need to make it to Nottinghamshire and back. Allan on the other hand guessed that if Robin was alive still, he would stay so for a while longer. The both men had considered the possibility of the archer having been caught, Much fearing the Sheriff of York would indulge in the same recreational activities as the one in Nottingham, but no men had dangled in the early morning air.

Much had even suggested that they could let themselves be arrested, a feat that was certainly not all too difficult to accomplish, but Allan was not keen on the idea at all, and had also pointed out that this would help little, if this was not what had happened to Robin. The both of them would then be sitting in the dungeons of York, while Robin would be in a completely different place, wherever in the world this was.

Allan reached the forest and decided to ride on only for a little while longer, his eyes almost falling shut with sleep. Years ago he would not have believed it, but now the forest gave him an odd feeling of safety, the reason why he had chosen to come here this morning.

Once he was somewhat more in the thicket of the forest, he stopped, sliding from the horse and working to secure the three animals to a tree. As he unfolded his blankets and started to make himself comfortable on the forest ground, taking care to find a soft spot on the green moss, he wondered if they would even need the three horses later on.

He felt a wave of guilt as he thought of Much, who was still trying to find Robin, and as he thought of their leader who was who knew where. While Allan had so far pretended to believe that Robin had gone off on his own by his own free will, he had to admit that it was not very likely. That he had found himself knocked out, and that Robin had not yet returned, did not promise anything good. He wished he knew what they could do, for Robin had saved his neck after all. And he did not owe Robin and the gang only because of that, as he thought of the secrets he kept to himself.

While he was falling asleep under the forest trees, he pondered the possibilities of being a trickster, a profession he had never really given up after all.

**TBC**


	9. Close

**A/N: Many thanks to Emmithar for the beta again! :) **

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* * *

Chapter 9: Close**

Allan nipped the beer, tasting the strong flavour of it. He smiled, watching the other man stagger towards his table. It was surprisingly convincing, considering that Much hadn't had a single drink. He had also argued against this charade for quite a while. Allan had finally convinced him though, if only by the promise that they might find Robin this way.

He placed the three cups on the table, as Much was sitting down opposite of him.

"Fancy a game?" Allan asked, loud enough for others to hear.

Much nodded, and Allan showed him a coin that he had put under one of the cups. Then he moved the cups around, Much keeping his eyes on the one the coin was under. After a few moments, Allan looked up to him expectantly.

"This one," the other outlaw pointed at the cup on the right, sounding uncertain. Allan knew that the other man had to be exhausted and he could see his tiredness even in the dim light of the tavern. To the other patrons it might look just as convincingly as him being drunk.

Allan lifted the cup and indeed he found the coin under it. He gave Much a bright smile that the other man had a hard time to match. Much was deeply upset. He had been looking for Robin all night and day, while Allan had taken some time to rest and come up with his plan.

"You win," he told the man now, handing over two coins. "Fancy another?"

Much nodded again. So far they had not drawn the attention of any of the other people who were sitting in the inn with their beers.

Allan once again placed the coin under one of the cups, before moving them around. Much once again found the right cup and Allan handed over more coins. By now some of the men on the table next to them were watching their game.

Much won yet another time, still not appearing as happy as he should have been considering his lucky streak. Allan frowned. He was somewhat worried about Robin himself, but he did not share Much's dejection. It wouldn't help them, and if they were indeed not able to find Robin, they still would have to live with it; they had suffered loses before. He gripped the cup in his hand tighter, pushing the thoughts aside, as he placed the coin under the cup again, winking once at Much.

Hopefully the man would remember that this was the sign that he would start losing now, for a number of men were observing them, one or two of them even rising from their seats to get a better look. This time Allan moved the cups painfully slow, as to make sure that everyone would be able to remember where the coin was. Then he waited for Much's wrong guess.

Much pointed at the cup at the right, though both of them had to know very well that the coin was under the left one. Allan lifted the cup with a slight smirk and a groan when through the inn, as Much lost his money.

"Want another?" Allan asked then, but Much shook his head, standing up as quickly as if his seat has been heated. "Anyone else fancy a game?" Allan asked into the round then. Several men volunteered at once. Allan smiled. "Let's take one at a time." He had known that Much's loss despite it being obvious where the coin was would motivate other players, especially after they had seen Much winning before.

Allan hoped that the players they wanted would appear soon enough. He didn't mind making some money, but then he also remembered the last time he had played this game in Nottingham and he didn't wish for a repetition of that situation. It was wiser to not keep up the game too long.

Of course, if they were to be arrested, they would have achieved something as well, at least in Much's eyes, who had argued for that action since the last night. The actual plan was different though. The question they wanted answered was the same, but they wanted to keep their options open, something that wouldn't be the case if they landed in the dungeons of York. For the last hour before entering the inn they had been waiting outside, observing the clientele that entered the tavern, and as Allan had guessed before, a number of castle guards had been among them.

Befriending them was the goal, and if he had to lose the hard-earned money of the other patrons to them, it was to be so. Getting the guards to talk would be interesting too, and they could only hope that they would find one with the right information. If they did not, they still had the possibility of getting themselves – or one of them – arrested, or else they might be able to take out a guard and infiltrate the castle as they done so often in Nottingham. Allan smiled. They had possibilities. He just hoped Robin would appreciate their effort, later, when they would come to save him. Allan didn't mind doing this at all. He could achieve something, too, and if he had to lie and cheat for it, he could go along with it very well.

It took a while before the first man that Allan recognized as a guard sat down opposite of him. The man already seemed to have downed some beers, and Allan made sure to let him win the first round, keeping up his mood, just as he had done with other patrons from time to time, though most of them still had lost money to Allan's quick fingers.

"Want another round?" he asked after the guard had pocketed his coins. After a moment the man nodded. "It can't be easy," Allan chatted friendly, as he prepared the cups again, "with the measly wages you get."

"No, it's not," the man confirmed, keeping his eyes on the cups Allan was moving around.

Allan let him win again and the guard grinned, taking the coins the outlaw offered.

"Another one?"

The man nodded again and Allan once again played his game, this time giving the other no chance to win, as he let the coin disappear in the palm of his hand.

"Ah, unlucky!" Allan exclaimed.

"It's not my day," the guard shook his head, frowning at the cup that had proven to be the wrong one.

"Want to try again?"

"One more time," he nodded. "Need to be back in the castle in the morning, you know."

Allan inclined his head, setting a winning round of cups in front of the other.

"Ah, you win!" he said this time, seeing the temptation to continue in the man's face. The man was standing up though. "Wait, you sure you don't want to play another? Those filthy prisoners won't care how many rounds you had tonight."

The guard frowned. "Don't have anything to do with prisoners. I'm standing guard at the sheriff's chamber."

Allan grimaced. "Well, maybe another time." The other man vanished deeper into the tavern, and Allan sighed, as he watched him leave, realising that this had been a waste of time and money. He suspected more and more that they had to find another way into the castle, no matter that they didn't even know if Robin was in there or not.

* * *

Will handed the last sack of grains to Owen, the miller of Nettlestone, before he nodded to John. This was done. The two men and Djaq had arrived back from York the previous night and had since then prepared to distribute the supplies among the villages. The venture had gone over well, although they had to take care not to draw the attention of any guards to them. Will figured that the sheriff might just as well seek to stop them from distributing the food, and would try to seize it for himself.

Will looked around for Djaq and when he saw her he nodded towards her as well, and she understood. They would make their way back to camp now and wait for the rest of the gang to return from York with the second load of supplies. They had actually expected that the three men would have already found their way to Sherwood by now, not having planned to leave very much later than them.

Will knew that Robin had wanted to gather information in York as well, but the man had also told him that he would not take long, and that he, Much and Allan would leave perhaps a day after the others at the latest. Still, so far there was no sign of them in the villages around Nottingham, but Will guessed there could be many reasons why they had been either held up, or why the outlaws had simply missed each other.

Djaq though, seemed worried. That was at least the way he interpreted her present expression. He didn't ask about it, before they were back under the shelter of the trees of the forest. John was busy taking care of their horses that they would keep for a little while longer until they knew that they would not need them any more.

"They'll be back soon," Will said then.

Djaq needed a second before she looked up to him, and nodded.

"You're not worried, are you?" he asked.

"Not about that," she said, shaking her head once.

"What else then?"

Again she didn't answer directly and Will was already not expecting her any more to do so. Unwilling to pressure her on it, he turned his gaze to the ground, looking around for promising looking pieces of wood. While they would be waiting for the others, he could just as well get to work on something.

"I worry about Allan," she said then, and now it was his turn to look up surprised.

"Why Allan?" She couldn't possibly mean the present situation, for then she would have to worry about Robin and Much just as well. Will was confused.

"Something troubles him."

This didn't exactly clear Will's confusion. They were all upset about the things that were happening around them, and he had the suspicion that Allan wasn't the one who was most touched by it. It had to be a different matter instead, something that concerned only Allan.

"By what?" he asked therefore.

"I do not know, but I think it might have to do with Robin."

"So Robin and Allan aren't getting along," Will shrugged. That wasn't so strange; they all had their disagreements within the gang, and the two were no exception. If anything, they disagreed more than the others. Robin did not always care for Allan's nature. And while he accepted this fact, he could see Djaq believing otherwise.

"It is not that, but something deeper, I think," she tried to explain. "I sense it with Robin, too; he is different towards Allan."

"Are you sure?" he questioned. "I think... he's keeping things from all of us, not just from Allan. You know how he is, trying to solve everything on his own..." Will knew his words to be true, but he wondered how much Robin had realised that he could not always do everything alone... the last autumn should have affirmed the man that he was not alone, that the gang was there, even if the people, whose goodwill Robin so craved, were not.

"It is just not Robin," Djaq went on, turning to face him. Will returned her gaze, knowing that she held that tone whenever she was serious. He knew she cared for both of them, loved them like family. Will could say the same, but he also knew it was not his place to dwell in every conflict or petty secret, whatever it may be.

"Everyone is having a hard time," he distracted her, telling her what was on his mind. "People are starving, taxes are only getting higher, and the king may never even come home. That's all there is to it. But things will get better; they have to, don't they?"

She watched him for a moment, then nodded in quiet agreement. But he could tell she was not fully convinced. It was a small matter, and she in time would come to understand that it was stress causing all of this mishap, and little else. At least, it was what he had convinced himself.

"The villages will need more food soon," she said then, and he nodded, knowing she had put the other matter aside for now. "It will still be weeks before the people will be able to get fresh supplies from the fields and the markets."

Will nodded again. "I think Robin plans to go back to York and get more soon."

"Can we pay for that?"

He looked at her gravely. "If we can't, we have to get more money from the sheriff. He's taking it all from the people, so he's the place to go to get more to feed them." Once Robin, Much and Allan would be back from York as well, it was only the question how exactly they would accomplish that.

* * *

When she had decided to break into the dungeons, she had thought it was her last hope.

By now she had come to realise that this hope had never been there. Marian had thought that once her father would be out of that dreary cell, back in a real house, with a warm fire by his side, he would recover, but instead she could see him fading in front of her eyes, ever more clearly since they had arrived in Locksley.

She had taken to her room for a few minutes now, hoping to compose herself, before she would return to him. Her gaze fell on the small bag she had brought from the castle. She had found Guy looking at it the other day and had chastised herself for her carelessness. She didn't think he had seen the Nightwatchman's cloak, for he certainly would not have reacted as calmly as he had then, if he had seen it.

Guy had left her alone with her father for the most part, only to a few meals he had invited her, times when he had been asking her to stay at Locksley, more or less openly. He knew as well as she that her father would not live long, but he also had to know that she could not stay, in that case even less than if he were to live.

She hadn't yet received answer from any of her father's friends she had written to, and it was no surprise considering the little time that had passed since this had been done. She didn't know if any reply even would arrive, before her father would pass away. She swallowed at the thought, suppressing the tears that threatened to come. He hadn't asked about it. She knew he was worrying about her, but he had not yet voiced the question as to where she would go; maybe because he knew she would not be able to give an answer.

After sitting on the bed for a few minutes, she took her bag and moved to store it under the bed, at least out of Guy's sight, though she guessed he would not intrude into it purposefully. Still, it was just another reason why she would not be able to stay. The Nightwatchman would have to live on; there were people in Nottingham who depended on it, and this would not be possible if she stayed here at Locksley.

A sound behind her made her turn and she met Guy standing in the door to her room, a grave expression on his face. With a feeling of unreality she moved to her feet, shaking slightly.

"Marian." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I have sent for a priest."

She swallowed, but could not say anything. Hurrying past him, she rushed out of the room and into the one at the opposite side of the corridor. She had only left it less than half an hour ago.

The next hours passed for her in a fog and when the morning came she could barely remember the night. This time she had shut the door of her room behind her, had locked it even with the bolt that she had not touched before.

Now she was staring at her bed, observing the folds in the blanket. She didn't know what to do, didn't even want to do anything. After some moments she wondered if Guy would follow her, would knock at the door at any moment, but there was no sound. It was silent, the whole house seemingly asleep. Or dead.

She moved over to her bed, the creases still in her focus, before she turned her head to the window, only noticing now that the sun had gone up. It had to have been for a while because it had already moved well over the horizon.

The tears came easily then and at the moment she cared little about who came, or where she would go.

It had to have been around noon when there was finally a knock at the door, soon followed by a voice that could only be Guy's. She still sat quietly, not moving, not answering, maybe waiting for him to call again, but nothing came.

There was silence again and as it became unbearable, she stood up, once again moving to the window of the room as she had done so often during the few days that she had been here. It seemed to be a warm day; she could see people moving outside, not wearing heavy clothing as they had done for months before.

The shadows of the houses were becoming longer as the afternoon moved along, as did those of the trees at the other side of the village, where the thickness of the forest began. She knew that things had to be done, though Guy had earlier promised her he would take care of it, expecting her to sleep. But still, she was on her own now, had to go out there, despite how little it mattered at the moment.

**TBC**


	10. Plight

**A/N: Thanks to Emmithar again for her beta and her help with this! :)**

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* * *

Chapter 10: Plight **

The day had already gone by, and none of them expected anything to happen anymore at this late hour. Of course, the only way they even knew that the day was over and the night had come was by the lack of light streaming through the cracks in the walls that surrounded them all.

But then, when some of the prisoners of the York dungeons had already made themselves as comfortable as could be expected in a place like they were captivated in, settling down for sleep, there was a sudden squeaking noise from outside and everyone knew what it meant.

The outer dungeons door had been opened. This was soon followed by the steps of guards, as unmistakable as the sounds of the door. Some of the men who were sitting in the dark were looking up now, waiting for the approaching light coming from a torch, apparently curious as to what was going on, while others still tried to nap.

Then the inner dungeons door was opened as well and the shine of the torch, blinding them all with its glare compared to the previous darkness, travelled over the faces inside. It took only a few moments before it came to a stop, and as Robin had expected, they were coming for him. He wasn't quite sure why he had figured that this was the case, as it could have been anyone else, too, but the fact that they came at night had probably told him.

The guards moved quickly and the prisoners moved to the side to let them to Robin, careful to not be in the way of the sheriff's men. They pulled Robin to his feet and out of the cell and he knew that he was not keen on a fight inside of there, not that he would have stood any chance as it was.

Then the door was thrown shut again and locked, and Robin could hear a few farewell calls from inside the cell, calls that probably followed every prisoner that was taken away.

They took the same way they had come down the other day, as far as Robin could tell. The way upwards went by faster, as he could properly walk this time, only his hands having been bound, keeping him from hitting any of the guards in a potential attempt for escape.

At some point the route seemed to differ, as they came through hallways he did not recognize. They travelled further upwards and finally arrived in areas that were laid out with carpet, and Robin knew where he was being taken. Finally they stopped in front of finely decorated doors, two guards standing outside.

"You're going to behave in here, you understand?" one of the men who had brought him grunted and Robin didn't even bother to reply, waiting only to be let in to the Sheriff of York, and learn of whatever the man desired of him.

"You have to wait," one of the guards who had been standing near the door nodded towards the other man. "Sheriff's busy."

Robin's guard grimaced. "What are they going on about today?"

"Taxes," the other replied. "The king. Taxes. It's always the same."

The guard at the other side laughed. "The king can sit in his hole for as long as he wants. Nobles won't be able to come up with enough. Taxes have dried up."

There was more laughter. "Not like anyone here really wants him to come back. Sheriff not for sure."

Robin frowned at this conversation, but didn't show that he cared in any way about what was said, hoping he would be able to hear more, learn more...

The door to the chamber was opened though and he was pushed forward.

"So tell me about that game you played at the tavern-," he could hear one of the guards outside asking, just before the chamber doors were closed.

Robin came to a stop then and was at first confused as to what was going on, for he was not able to see anyone who seemed to be the sheriff. Then a small man turned around and lifted his eyebrows.

"Robin of Locksley," he said, taking a few steps to seat himself on a wide wooden chair. "Or Robin Hood, if we can believe the tales."

"You're the Sheriff of York?" Robin clarified, not bothering to show any special respect to a man who was not even loyal to his king, the very man who most likely had brought him into his position. At least according to the words of the guards outside. Robin smiled at the thought, figuring that these were probably just as reliable as the rumours that might have been heard about him, but still, everything told him that the man in front of him was not loyal to King Richard, was instead hand in hand with Vaysey. It would fit the picture.

The sheriff smiled in return. "You seem just as impudent as they tell. I thought you to be taller though, but then you're not the big fellow they tell you're in league with." The man turned to a guard that was at his other side. "Have you apprehended any of the others he's been travelling with?"

Robin felt a sting at hearing the words, thinking of Allan and Much, wondering what had happened to them. He feared they would not be as lucky as he was, to be left mostly unharmed, for he was not sure that there was a prize set on their heads as large as on his that made the comparatively benign treatment worth the hassle.

The guard shook his head, and the sheriff turned back to Robin with a frown.

"So where are your fellows?"

Robin shrugged. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know that the Sheriff of Nottingham has set an extraordinary prize on your head."

Robin gave no reply, knowing this had been true for a long time. He was not certain in how much the prize might have grown in recent times, though he doubted that the sheriff had had much mind for him and the other outlaws. Ever since the fall, they had not confronted Vaysey openly.

"If the Sheriff of Nottingham will actually pay remains to be seen," he said finally, as the other man continued to watch him.

The sheriff grinned. "Oh, he will pay. The wonder I have is only if I will deliver him the whole man, or only your head." He inclined his head slightly, as if to study Robin closer. "Is it worth the risk, if proof of your death will be enough for the sheriff?"

"Vaysey is like a cat who plays with its prey," Robin shrugged, careful not to show any fear as to what had been said, "So he surely has set a higher prize to have me alive."

The other man nodded. "For now, yes."

Robin remembered the talk he had overheard the other day, the questions that had been raised as to whether it was worth to risk to deliver him alive, chancing his escape on the way. He knew he had to make sure the sheriff was convinced it was a better deal to deliver him whole. With no idea where Much and Allan were, no weapon at his side, and surrounded by guards, he had no other way out.

The Sheriff of York rose from his seat. "Get him ready for the travel to Nottingham," he nodded to one of the guards. "And make sure he makes it there _alive_."

* * *

Much kicked the empty cup away from his foot, dropping down on the ground in frustration, leaning against the wooden door that led into the back area of the tavern they had spent another night in, playing Allan's game, drinking and doing a few other things he did not care thinking of. Things Allan was currently busy with as well and that had, according to him, assured them constant access to the place, including an unceasing supply of ale and meat.

Allan had also claimed that this was the only way to get close to the guards of York, those that guarded the dungeons of the town, as well as the castle in general.

So far it had gotten them nowhere, and Much grew more and more restless. He hated this place, knowing that in Nottingham things would be easier. Robin had often managed to get himself arrested there; it would be easy for them to find out where he was if he were there, they'd surely find a way to get him out then, too.

Allan was no proper help in this at all, no matter what the man had said, the way he had tried to convince him of his stupid plan. The only value of it was that they would surely be arrested at some point, at some point when they'd manage to cheat a guard of his money and he'd call more guards... Much was sure this would happen soon, and the only positive in this was that they would finally be able to find out if Robin was in the dungeons of York. Then they would only need to find a way out again.

Much didn't like to remember the situation of the past autumn when they all been sitting in the dungeons of Nottingham, waiting to be hanged, and Robin had been taken away. Still, those desperate hours came back to his mind now. Back then he had calmed after a while, certain that Robin would always find a way out os situations like those. Maybe he should have the same confidence now. The lack of knowledge was making him more anxious rather than less now though.

Much moved to his feet to pick up the cup he had kicked away earlier, figuring he could get himself some water, when he heard giggling behind him. A girl stumbled out of the door of the inn then, shortly followed by Allan.

Much frowned at the man, who seemed to be in high spirits.

"Much."

"Yes?" he asked testily, clutching the cup tighter in his hand.

"I know where he is, Robin, I mean," Allan grinned.

"Where?"

"Well, not sure where exactly at the moment," Allan shrugged and Much was shortly away from throwing the cup at him, when the man continued, "but I heard that they're taking him to Nottingham. Guard told me. Told you it would work." He still grinned at Much, before turning briefly to the girl that was watching them curiously.

"Nottingham? Then we have to go there, too!" Much decided.

Allan shrugged again. "Of course."

"Or we can rescue him on the way!" Much suggested, an image on his mind of him and Allan in the forest, waiting for any of the Sheriff of York's men, ambushing them on their way...

"We can try. Not sure we can find them though, just saying." Allan smiled at the female. "Can you get us some more ale, and some pork, too?"

"Sure, my love," the girl said, skipping away.

"You spent all of our money on this?" Much shook his head.

"It's _my _money," Allan clarified. "I earned it fair and square."

Much wasn't quite sure about the fairness of the way it had been done, but then their usual way of acquiring treasure was not exactly lawful either, he figured, so he could hardly argue with Allan about it now.

"So we go back to that merchant and get the rest of the food Robin wanted to take?" the other man suggested then, all to Much's surprise who had completely forgotten about it in his worry about Robin.

"I suppose so," he nodded, his thoughts still on their leader. "But we have to save Robin, too."

Allan was still smiling. "Don't worry about it, my friend. Between the two of us, we can do it." He then turned, walking back into the tavern and Much wondered how many more beers it would take before they were finally off, back to Nottingham. Robin needed them, he knew it.

Still, it was already several hours later when they finally directed a cart with supplies for the villages back home out of York. Much had briefly feared that they would be held up. As far as Allan had been able to tell him, Robin had actually been arrested, so it was only logical that people would be on the lookout for other outlaws as well. But no one had bothered him or Allan.

Of course, little could bother Allan at this moment. Much had ventured alone to retrieve the second load of supplies, unwilling to even have Allan participate in it in his state. He wondered when the man had taken in so much; he had thought he had been observing the other well enough. Not that he really would have been able to do anything about it. Now Allan was snoring on the sacks of supply that were loaded on the cart, while Much was busy directing their horses.

It was a good while later that the other man woke and looked at Much bleary-eyed.

"Where are we?"

"On the way to Nottingham," Much replied.

"Oh."

The man was silent then, and Much enjoyed the silence for now, having no further inclination to talk to the other. His mind was on Nottingham. He would have much preferred to race back to the town, using the speed their horses offered. But then he neither knew how long it would take till Robin would even be there, nor did he want to disappoint the man by leaving the food behind that they had bought with their hard-robbed money.

"I'm sorry, you know," Allan said suddenly, looking slightly sick. Much hoped he would have the sense to not puke over all of the food they had just taken.

"About what?" Much thought that Allan definitely had reason to apologize for his behaviour, in view of the danger their leader was in at the same time, but then the man had also gotten them the information they needed.

"I didn't want to do it," the other man said. "Well, I did. In a way. Not at first, but then, yes."

Much turned away from the man, figuring Allan still had too much of the liquid inside of him.

"But I'm helping you now, aren't I?" Allan went on. "That makes us square, doesn't it?"

As the horses trotted on, Much focused on the way, wondering why Allan was this way with him. The man was often irritating, but then there seemed to be situations when he talked nothing but nonsense. When he turned around again to see what the other way up to now, he saw that the outlaw had fallen asleep again. This was certainly a good thing, though he could already imagine that the travel to Nottingham would indeed be a long one. How they were to save Robin on the way in this manner, he did not know.

* * *

With all that had been going on, and the problems they were facing, it had irritated him that Gisborne seemed to have his mind on other matters.

Of course, even in the past he had known that the man often had his mind on the leper, but then he had wrongly dared to believe that the woman's escape, together with her doddery father, would have ended that matter once and for all. Well, save for the occasion of her hanging, that was.

Still, he had thought he had Gisborne's full attention now. Instead it had been the complete opposite. The man had ridden off to Locksley soon after the leper's flight and had not shown his face in Nottingham for days. So Vaysey had gone through the trouble and had sent a man after his disloyal Master-At-Arms.

The messenger had returned with two pieces of information. The first had been that he had delivered the sheriff's demand that Gisborne was to return to Nottingham, and then he had told Vaysey of a curious observation indeed. At the house there had apparently been preparations made for a funeral, just at the same time the messenger had arrived there.

The man had reported this to Vaysey in a matter-of-fact, had certainly not realised the implication of the observation he had made. But the sheriff had started to ponder at this odd occurrence. Surely, these kind of things were certainly not rare in Locksley, as in any of the other villages, but Vaysey could not think what reason could be there for it at the manor. As far as his man had told him, Gisborne's housekeeper was well, as was the Master-at-Arms himself. And Vaysey doubted that it was any of the servants... At least he himself, if he were the lord of the manor, would make sure they returned to their miserable cottages before they breathed their last, or would at least be brought there if they died an unfortunate, sudden death.

So therefore, he concluded, Gisborne seemed to have a guest who had died all of a sudden, without Vaysey having any chance to learn of it before... The idea became only more clear in his mind, as the sheriff reconsidered the happenings of the past days.

There was disappointment, for sure. He had erred in his estimation of the man. Of course, he had long known that Gisborne had his foolish sides, clearly showing in his fancy of Marian. But he had not thought it would go so far to betray the man that had brought him into the position he was in now.

Vaysey did not like it, knowing he could have needed a loyal right hand man even more so now, when times were so straining. What he did not need was a man like Gisborne who had proven himself to be otherwise. There was no way the man would be allowed to survive this betrayal. Well, maybe one way, but in bitter disappointment Vaysey figured that he would not see this happen. He could offer Gisborne that his life would be spared, if he rid himself and the world of the leper.

What he himself would do then, was another question. The prince still demanded the sum that could hardly be paid, and there still was the threat of outlaws destroying it all. Another matter he would have to find a solution for, once he had dealt with Gisborne.

For now he was wondering if the man would actually follow the order to return to Nottingham. The messenger had reported a reply that indicated it to be so, but then the sheriff could not be sure of it. If the man had any sense, he should realise that the sheriff might have seen through the charade he had been playing. But then, it was very well possibly that Gisborne possessed no sense anymore at all. Who knew what was going on with him and the leper at this moment, the man forgetting even the simplest duty of answering the call of his superior?

Vaysey leaned back in his chair, trying to enjoy the goblet of wine in his hand, despite all these troubles on his mind. It was in the hours of the early morning, as he had decided to stay up and wait for the return of his Master-At-Arms. This was a matter that had to be dealt with... not because of the woman, but because he needed to either affirm himself of the man, or dispose of him.

Pondering, he closed his eyes for a moment, but almost spit out the wine when there was a sudden sound in front of him. His eyes shot open to see Gisborne busying himself to appear to his full advantage, apparently having entered the room quietly. Vaysey grimaced.

"My Lord," the man gave a nod.

"Finally found your way back here, did you, Gisborne?"

"My Lord," the man nodded again, causing only slight wonderment in Vaysey as to how much the man's mind was still somewhere else.

"Have you amused yourself sufficiently at Locksley?" he went on.

There was slightly alarm in the other's face. "I took some days to rest, my Lord, and to care for the business of the manor."

"Yes, yes, Gisborne." Vaysey played with the cup in his hand, watching the other out of the corner of his eyes. "Now tell me, who died?"

The sheriff would have been greatly amused by the expression in Gisborne's face, had it not been for the disappointment that he himself felt. It was almost like a father who had to look at his fallen son as he was trying to excuse himself. Not that he considered himself sentimental, but still...

"My Lord, why do you ask this?" Gisborne tried to regain his countenance.

"I was just worried for your welfare, Gisborne, nothing else," the sheriff feigned ignorance, although his Master-at-Arms had to know that he had been found out. "I may also ask how the leper is doing. You surely can tell me?"

Gisborne's expression was now fully frozen, and Vaysey sighed at the sight, knowing with satisfaction of the guards he had ordered to remain on alert outside. It might prove to be an interesting morning.

"I do not understand your meaning, Sir," Gisborne replied, but Vaysey noticed that his hand had moved to the hilt of his sword, as if reassuring himself.

He grimaced, impatience with the other man boiling inside of him. Vaysey figured that at least he could use this opportunity to determine if there was any sense left in the other man. The next answer would show if Gisborne still considered his advancement and power important, important enough to be useful to the sheriff.

"I know you're hiding her, Gisborne," Vaysey replied, looking interestedly at the fine carvings on the goblet in his hand.

Gisborne was quiet, had only opened his mouth, but had apparently failed to come up with an answer.

"I beg your pardon, my Lord, I felt that-"

"I do not care what you felt, Gisborne," the sheriff sneered. "But I'll be generous today, and offer you this: either you bring her here, or I'll send my guards to get her, and they'll be none too gentle, I may tell you."

"My Lord-"

"My generosity is not unlimited," Vaysey stressed.

"What are you going to do?" the other asked.

Vaysey smiled. "She'll hang, of course," he said after a few moments in that had had enjoyed Gisborne's strained face. The man had to have known the consequences. "Now be a good boy and get her here, or my generosity may not extend to you and your current position. Do I make myself clear?"

The wine now completely forgotten as the dilemma of the other man was much sweeter to enjoy, despite the disappointment he could still feel due to the betrayal that had been done, Vaysey observed his Master-At-Arms, a position the man would likely not fill very much longer, no matter the decision he would make now. It was only a question whether he would need to call his guards now, or later.

"Let me assure you that she will hang whether or not you fetch her. The question is, will you hang alongside her? Prove to me that it is unnecessary. At least you'll have the decency to treat her well on her way here. My guards, on the other hand, will not extend the same courtesy. So what it is to be?"

Finally Gisborne nodded. "I will get her, my Lord."

**TBC**


	11. Trapped

**A/N: This took a bit longer than I had hoped, as I was distracted by a small side-project of Emmithar and me ;) Thanks to Em for the beta! :) **

* * *

**Chapter 11: Trapped**

He walked down the stairs of the castle as slowly as he dared, his thoughts racing. The question to what he was to do was there, though Guy had already decided what he would not, could not, do. Even as he had answered the sheriff in an affirmative, promising him to bring Marian to Nottingham, at the same time admitting that he was hiding her at Locksley, his mind had also been searching for solutions.

He couldn't confront the sheriff any further. As strained as the man was, he could be glad that he was still alive and a free man. He had seen Vaysey getting rid of people for far less serious transgressions.

Once he had entered the man's chamber, it had not come as much of a shock to him that Vaysey had seen through his doings. He had suspected that he would do so at some point, despite the precautions he had taken. At the end of the day, the sheriff had way more people in his hand, way more people who would inform him of anything that concerned the Master-of-Arms and any other matters of the man's interest. Guy wasn't sure what it had been that had given it away, but he suspected that the visit he had received the previous day of the sheriff's messenger, delivering the order to return to Nottingham had played a part in it.

He had taken care that no one was to spot Marian at Locksley, but he had known that this could not go on forever. Now he could only hope for her sake that she still had time to attend the service for her father that he knew would be in the morning hours of this day, before she would be rudely interrupted.

What was to happen then, he did not know. Previously he had had thoughts of convincing the sheriff that no harm had been done, to find his allowance for her to return to the castle, or stay at Locksley, hopefully also receiving the permission to marry her, an outlook she would share, as he hoped, after all that had been done... He had feared that it was a foolish idea, and when he had seen the sheriff on his return to Nottingham, he had been acutely aware that the man would not be so easy to sway. The threat had been there and Guy could not help fearing the man's intentions. He knew that if he did not bring Marian to the castle today, it would end with bitter consequences for him. He would have no way to appease the sheriff; the man would simply get rid of him, all the while sending guards to Locksley to arrest Marian. Guy had to act himself.

He made his way to the stables, a place he had left not long ago. Only one of the stable boys was there at the moment, and napping even more so, but Guy was not bothered by that; it would rather help him. Leaning down to the haystack that was occupied by the boy, he shook the young one, effectively waking him. He blinked confused and then scrambled to his feet, as he realised Guy's presence.

"You, boy, you can ride?" Guy asked, before the other could make for a run.

"'Course I can," the boy responded quickly, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

Guy pressed a coin into his hand. "Take a horse and go to Locksley as quickly as you can. Go to the manor and tell them that she has to leave, and now."

"Who, she?" the boy questioned.

"That in none of your concern," Guy returned, rising to his full height. "Now leave, before I take other measures."

The boy nodded quickly, before he moved to ready a horse. Gisborne walked over to his own horse, knowing that he would have to get it ready himself. But it would be to his advantage, enabling him to convincingly delay his own departure. He knew that the sheriff would have him watched, would have his every step out of the town observed. He assumed they hadn't seen him speaking to the young boy, and if they had, that they didn't know that it was about more than saddling his horse.

The boy rode off soon, and Guy took care to take as long as possible, before he followed as well. Then he let his horse trot out of Nottingham, heading for Locksley, but going slower than he could have done. After a while, just after he had passed the village of Clun, he slowed the horse to a halt and dismounted. He pretended to check the front hooves of the animal, at the same time trying to discern if anyone was near, following him. He was still certain that he was being pursued, although he had yet to spot or hear anyone.

He rode on then, still taking his time. While he was coming into the village of Locksley, he wondered if any of these precautions even made sense, for he realised more and more than he might have passed the point of no return. Could he really face the sheriff again without Marian? Not today, that much was certain.

When he rode towards the manor, everything lay quietly. He walked into the house unannounced and it took a few moments before Thornton came to see who had entered.

"Marian, is she still here?" Guy questioned directly.

The other shook his head. "She left directly after the service for Sir Edward earlier this morning, Sir. A boy arrived and told us that she was to leave immediately. You sent the boy, did you not?"

Gisborne nodded. "I did." He could only hope that Marian was safe. "Do you know where to she has gone?"

Thornton shook his head. "She would not say."

Guy gave only a short nod. It was maybe the better that no one knew, but he hoped that she had found shelter somewhere. It was probably easier for her on her own, though he hated that fact that she was alone. He hadn't had time to think of any other retreat for her, and he feared that only escape had saved her life. If he did not return with her to Nottingham soon, the sheriff would try to make sure that it was done.

Gisborne still doubted that the sheriff cared very much about the matter with her and her father itself, which was also the reason why he had previously believed that he would be able to convince the man to basically forget about it all, but still he knew, Vaysey was probing him now, and detested the rebellion against his orders.

He could do nothing for Marian any more at this moment. Now it was the question what he would do for himself. When he had left Vaysey's chamber earlier that morning he had assumed that he would return in the course of the day, very soon realising that he needed to let the sheriff cool off from the disappointment he was to suffer, if he learned that Guy had failed to get Marian before she fled.

Now that everything that had happened had settled down in his mind, now that he was seeing the grave face of his housekeeper in front of him, he realised that things were not that easy. Vaysey had threatened him with the fact that his position was in danger and Guy feared that as much was true, and possibly more.

Grabbing the hilt of his sword he knew that he had to make a decision. He gave another short nod.

"Thornton, I am going to leave the shire for a time. Should any of the sheriff's men come and ask for me, tell them as much. I will return in due time."

The other only showed a slight surprise. "Very well."

He himself would have to send a message to Vaysey, explaining that Marian was already gone when he arrived at Locksley. If the man would believe as much, was another matter. Guy left the house and remounted his horse, the decision weighing on him, but he knew that he had to wait till Vaysey had calmed down, or his life was in danger. He often had a hard time to estimate what the other man would do, but then the sheriff was also known for rash actions when it came to life and limb of others, and Guy did not want to become a victim of that. He would leave and return, once he could believe Vaysey to have regained his calm, or once he needed Guy, or he could alternatively offer the sheriff a service that was of considerable value to him, more than he had offered even as Master-of-Arms.

He felt some regrets that things had come so far, and there was some anger also towards her, she, who had made him act this way, just for the sake of a man who lay now buried in the churchyard of Locksley. But then, he had had no other choice.

* * *

She had planned to leave, though it had not been her intention so run quite so sudden.

No thoughts of escape had been on her mind during the small ceremony that laid her father to rest. Very few people had been there, the ceremonial basically a secret after all. For her protection, Marian knew. It had been nothing compared to what would have been expected at the funeral of a former sheriff. Guy had not been there either, having ridden off to Nottingham, as she had learned from Thornton.

Marian had just been back at Locksley manor, sitting in her room, crying now in the time she found alone, when she had heard the rider arriving outside. For a moment she had thought that Gisborne had arrived back, but then a glance outside told her that it was a young boy who had come to stop in front of the house. He jumped off the horse lightly and skirted to the front door

Pushing the sorrow deep inside, Marian took a moment to compose herself and twirl up her hair, finishing it with the dagger that did not show its true nature when adorning her hair. She had to be ready to leave. Wondering as to what the arrival of the boy meant, she went downstairs, taking care to remain out of sight of the front door though.

"Sir Guy, he sent me, Sir," she could hear a young voice explaining.

"He sent a message?" Thornton asked.

"She has to leave, that's what he told me, Sir" the boy said quickly.

"She?"

"That's all he said, Sir."

Marian didn't need to hear more. A feeling of worry and confusion was there, as to what exactly had happened in Nottingham. The sheriff had found her out, she guessed, but still she wondered why Guy had not come back to Locksley himself. She could imagine that he had not dared to do so, the sheriff maybe on his tracks. Or he had not been able to. But then, he would not have been able to send the boy either.

She hurried back upstairs, only taking moments to retrieve her belongings, before she rushed downstairs again. The fact that Guy had not had the opportunity to tell her himself that she had to leave made it clear that time was precious, no matter the exact reason why he had not come himself. In any way, her plan had been to leave before he returned, no matter the slight feeling of regret on her conscience that was connected with this plan. He would only have argued for her to stay, or would have wanted to know where she was to go, at the least. This, he could not learn.

Still no reply from her father's friends had arrived, but Marian was not planning on leaving Nottinghamshire in any way. She would stay. There was nothing waiting for her anywhere else, and only here could she do what she felt she had to.

Thornton caught her by the front door. "You are leaving, milady?"

She nodded quickly. "I heard the message."

Thornton looked at her gravely. "Where are you to go, if I may ask?"

Marian shook her head. "Thank you for everything, but I cannot tell you."

The man's gaze remained on her, and by his expression Marian got the slight feeling that he had an idea about her destination.

"Take care," he nodded, and Marian slipped out of the door, taking a view around the village, before she hurried off, pulling her cloak over her and into her face despite the sunshine that was bringing another warm spring day. She headed towards the forest, still quickening her steps. Once she was under the cover of the trees, she slowed down, knowing she had still a fair distance to go.

It was an odd feeling, to be in the forest under these circumstances, to make her way to the outlaws' camp, knowing that she would not simply return to Knighton or Nottingham in the course of a few hours.

The gang did not know that she was coming of course, but then Robin had asked her often to join him in the forest. She had refused then, the idea of living in the woods seeming absurd to her, when she could just as well stay at her home or at the castle. Now she did not have another place to go to. She wondered if Robin would be happy to have her there; she believed he would; why else would he have pleaded with her to come there as he had done? She did not know how the other outlaws would react though.

The forest felt foreign around her. She had never conceived it like this, now that it was to become her home. The birds were louder than the sounds she herself made, and with a smile that vanished quickly as the sorrow came back up, she wondered if the outlaws were to hear her coming. Maybe they were even already waiting in the bushes around her.

As she walked up towards where the camp lay, she looked around with greater attention, but there was no human movement she could detect. She wasn't far away from the outlaws' home, when she suddenly lost the ground under her feet, as she was lifted up in the air, a rope tightening around her waist, leaving her hanging in mid-air.

She cursed, taking another moment to realise that she had been caught in one of the gang's traps, intended to keep people away from the camp. Somewhere she could hear the sound of a bang, probably an alarm that someone had been caught in the trap. She groaned, imagining the faces of the men, especially Robin's, when they would find her here.

After a few moments, she could not hear any more of the bangs, and neither was there any noise of outlaws talking and walking up to where she was. There was only silence, save for the birds that were still singing around her.

She realised what it meant. The outlaws were not at their camp. With a feeling of dread she wondered if they were even back in Sherwood. Plenty of days had passed since their departure, as she had thought, but then she did not know where they had gone, or how long they would take to come back.

She tried to wriggle out of the rope that still tightened around her, but found that it only caused the rope to swing back and forth, tightening yet more, making it still harder for her to move in any coordinated way. She cursed again, very much unwilling to stay there until one of the outlaws dared to show their face in Sherwood again.

Once the rope had stilled again, Marian reached upwards and pulled the dagger out of her hair, letting it fall loose over her shoulder as she did so, and moved her arm further up to try and cut the rope above her head. After a few moments she succeeded and dropped, landing not all too hard on the forest ground. Removing the last pieces of rope around her waist, resolving to have a talk with Robin about that matter, she moved on.

She made the last steps over to the camp with the greatest care not to treat into yet another trap. The camp was still hidden, but knowing how she could enter, she was inside soon, finding it empty as she had expected when none of the men had come to see who had been caught in their trap.

She checked the fireplace and found it cold, telling her that it had not been in use this afternoon. The camp did not appear deserted in the whole though, a few personal things of the men lying around. Figuring that she would probably stay there for a while, having no other place to go and having to wait for the return of the men, she checked the storages she knew the gang had for food, but found them nearly empty. Of course, this was what Robin had told her. They didn't have any supplies, and neither had the villagers around Nottingham, this being the reason for the outlaws' departure after all.

Marian sat down on one of the camp's cot, finding that she was not feeling hungry anyway. She looked around the empty camp, loneliness creeping inside her. No one was here. Her father had been buried in the morning, a time that seemed already long gone, the ceremony itself not having yet fixed itself in her sense of reality. Swallowing, she figured that it was not half bad that the outlaws were not there yet, leaving her some time alone, a time that she wanted to come to an end, too, though, as she felt the outlaws' camp and the trees around it encircling her, almost as if she was caught again.

* * *

John didn't mind the waiting, but still wonder had come to him as well as to why Robin, Allan and Much had not yet returned from York. His own concern had been raised yet more when he noticed that Will, and especially Djaq, seemed to be worried.

He knew that the pair was talking between the two of them about things they didn't mention to him. John was aware that this wasn't specifically an affront to him; it was the same with Much and Allan, and probably also Robin. So it was no secret to him that Djaq and Will had shared their thoughts about their delayed friends, though he did not know what exactly they had spoken of, besides the few thoughts they had mentioned to him.

Another day had passed and the three outlaws had spent it observing the affairs in the villages. Much to their disquiet, they had seen a tax collector making his rounds in Clun.

John wondered seriously what the sheriff expected the people to give, there being simply nothing they had. Grimly he hoped that the man would not get the idea to raid the houses for food, now that the outlaws had distributed the shares from York.

As the sun was going down they were making their way back to camp, Will and Djaq leading the way along the narrow path while John followed, the absence of the other outlaws still on his mind. There was something they had to do, but for that, they first needed to know where the others even were.

"We go to York," he said then and Will stopped in his tracks in front of him.

"You think the others need our help?" he questioned.

John nodded.

"You want to go now?" Will clarified, turning yet more to the other man, as if ready to walk back the way they had come.

"It is going to be dark soon," Djaq pointed out from behind him, causing John to look at her. "I do not mean that I do not want to go and help them. I am worried, too," she added.

But John nodded to her as well. "We go to camp and wait till the morning. If they are not back then, we go back to York."

"I agree," Will said, glancing from John to Djaq who gave a short nod as well.

They continued on their way, but once they were only a few steps away from where their camp lay hidden, Djaq stopped again.

"Will, John," she said urgently, lowering her voice. The two men were at her side seconds later, looking down at what she had found. "Someone may be at the camp," Djaq whispered and John saw what she meant. One of their traps had gone off, but nobody was there anymore, the rope having been cut to free whoever had been caught.

"I don't think it's the others," Will spoke in a low voice. "They wouldn't be caught in our own traps, now would they? And they would not need to cut it to get the person down." He looked at Djaq who was shaking her head slightly.

"Keep your weapons at hand," John decided, grabbing his staff tighter. Will nodded, getting his bow ready, while Djaq took out her sword.

As they approached the camp, they did not immediately see anyone. The camp was not fully closed off against the outsider's eye though, indicating that actually someone was inside.

"I don't understand how anyone can have found it," Will murmured, but Djaq hushed him. John could understand Will's frustration though, as the man had built the camp with its concealment in mind, one that seemed to have failed with the intruder today.

They stepped carefully into the camp, still unaware of anyone's presence. Will kept his bow drawn and John his staff ready, confusion on his mind. Then he saw the lone figure and lowered his weapon. She was sleeping on Allan's cot, the blanket drawn around herself.

John pointed to her, a small smile on his face. "Marian."

"What is she doing here?" Djaq whispered, looking at the other woman.

"We'll have to ask her, once she's awake," Will shrugged.

"You think she knows anything about Robin and the others?"

Will shook his head. "I doubt it, but that's one more thing we can ask her."

The three of them settled down in the camp, John soon starting to prepare an evening meal for them with the little they had left over. His rustling finally woke Marian, who sat up with a start once she seemed to be awake enough to register the outlaws' presence.

"It's you," she said, letting out a breath. She looked from John to Will and on to Djaq then, confusion showing on her face. "Where's Robin? And the others?"

"They are not back from York yet," Will explained, grabbing his carving knife.

"York?" Marian frowned. "That's where you've gone to..."

Djaq nodded. "We came back first. Robin remained with Allan and Much."

"Why are you here?" Will asked then, and John thought this was a good question. He imagined that she had wanted to see Robin, but she had never before stayed this long at the camp alone, waiting for him, staying to sleep there even.

Marian shook her head slightly. "It's a long story."

Her tone told them that she was unwilling to talk about it, and although John could see that Djaq and Will shared a look about it, they left her alone for now, did not question further. John continued preparing their meal, looking over to where she sat then though.

"You want to wait for Robin?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged.

He frowned slightly, but didn't stop in his preparations.

"My father is dead," she said finally, in a quiet voice, causing all three of them to look at her.

"I'm sorry," Will said first.

John sighed, believing to understand now why she had come here. She was alone in the world now, so it only made sense that she would come to Robin. John even believed that Robin had mentioned before that it was only her father that was keeping her at the castle at Nottingham, Robin having asked her to join the gang instead. Now she seemed to have done just that, though she had not said it in her own words yet. John wondered if it was a good idea in any way. He was uncertain if she would be able to find her place there.

"I am sorry, too," he said.

"When do you think Robin and the others will be back?" she asked after a few minutes.

Will hesitated. "We thought they would already be back by now." He glanced at Djaq.

"We plan to go back to York, if they are not here by the morning."

John nodded to this.

"Do you want to stay here for the night?" he asked Marian.

She appeared uncomfortable, but nodded then, and John wondered what it was that she was keeping to herself. Sure, her father's death was certainly weighing heavily on her, and he could see the paleness of her face. But it did not seem to be the whole story, as to why she was here.

He continued preparing their meal, but was once again interrupted when they could hear voices in the close distance, mixed with the sounds of branches breaking and the rustling of leaves, that announced the arrival of people.

"But I'm telling you..." Allan's voice could clearly be recognized.

"We should go to Nottingham," Much declared.

Will smiled at this. "There they are."

John nodded contently. He had been slightly worried, it was true, so it was good to know that the outlaws had made it back now.

As Allan and Much entered the camp though, the gazes of the ones who had been waiting there searched in vain for the appearance of the third man.

"Where's Robin?" Marian voiced the question in John's head, confusion visible in all of them. Maybe the man had gone off on his own again; it was the idea that came next to his mind...

Allan looked at Marian. He seemed to feel uncomfortable, while Much was clearly upset.

"Robin's been caught."

**TBC**


	12. Loss

**A/N: Thanks to Emmithar for her help and the beta.**

**Warning: torture **

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**Chapter 12: Loss**

The sheriff knew that it would be an interesting day. He was somewhat tired as he had waited up till the early morning hours for Gisborne to return from Locksley and had only gone to bed after the man had declared that he would bring the leper to Nottingham. Naturally, Vaysey had also sent a man after the Master-At-Arms to make sure he knew about every step Gisborne took, before he had gone to sleep.

Now he was breaking his fast, comfortably lolling in his chair, only a stray thought as to how long he would still be able to enjoy the comfort of his position disturbing the peace. He wondered what he would do today. He certainly felt in the mood for a hanging and if everything went according to his estimation of Gisborne, they could see the leper swing later in the day. An evening entertainment, so to say.

Vaysey smiled, before he yawned, at the same time waving to a guard to let in the man he knew had been waiting outside the chamber for a while now, the sheriff not having cared about being interrupted too early in the morning.

The man walked in and bowed, the sheriff looking at him lazily. If it had been one of Prince John's messenger, his manner might have been different, but he knew this man was from elsewhere.

"What is it?" he asked.

"My Lord, I bring you a message from the Sheriff of York," the man replied with another short nod to Vaysey.

"What does the old fool want now?" Vaysey questioned tiredly.

"Sir, I am to inform you that the outlaw known as Robin Hood has been caught."

The sheriff was suddenly so much more awake. "Caught? Yes?" He rose from his seat eagerly.

"Yes, my Lord," the other man nodded. "The Sheriff of York offers you to bring him to Nottingham for the sum you have offered for doing so."

"Yes, yes," Vaysey agreed. Nottingham wasn't exactly having a very well filled treasury at the moment, but Hood's capture would amount to be a good investment, the sheriff was sure of that. "When can he be brought here? And is he still alive?"

A dead outlaw would be a good thing, too, and although he knew in the back of his mind that there always seemed to be a risk connected with having the man alive, he couldn't bring himself to go without the revenge that needed to be done. He couldn't allow it that Hood had an easy way out of this life...

"He can be brought as soon as you are ready to receive him, as he is already on the way here," the other man explained. "He is alive, yes, and the Sheriff of York appreciates that the risk connected with this is reflected in the sum you are willing to pay."

Vaysey clenched his fists happily. "Bring him here as soon as you can." This could still become a great week... maybe an event with the leper tonight, a few days of fun with Hood then... If only the taxes would go as well as this.

The messenger from York departed then, and the sheriff was left in a much better mood than before. Vaysey had briefly wondered as to Hood's disappearance before, having placed blame mostly on the weather, yet instead it seemed that he had been on the move. He wondered for a bit as to what Hood had done in York, but possibly it had just been to create annoyance in a different place for once. The sheriff did not know how York had managed to apprehend the man, but it was done and that was what counted, no matter that it would cost him.

He started wondering about Gisborne then, trying to estimate how long the man would need to bring Marian here. The man had done so before, back when he had gone to arrest dear old Edward and his obstinate daughter, burning down Knighton on the way, which hadn't caused a long delay. Now the man seemed to take his time.

Vaysey got dressed, all the while trying to come up with ways for entertainment with Hood. Marian was of less importance now. He would be glad when she would be gone for good, but a simple hanging was good enough for her, also once and for all freeing Gisborne from her vice. While it would be fun to extend her entertainment, he couldn't stand the thought of his Master-at-Arms moping around once again. Maybe he should really replace the man, but what would all the work he had put into the man over the years have been worth then?

The sheriff grimaced, trying to return to more pleasant thoughts.

As the day went on, the question as to where Gisborne was became greater. Vaysey had busied himself, but he started to get concerned about the matter.

It was well into the afternoon, when the man he had sent after his Master-At-Arms returned. The fact that he had turned up, but Gisborne had not, did not promise well in the sheriff's mind.

"My Lord Sheriff," the man started with an emotionless expression.

Vaysey sighed, wondering with how many of those imbeciles he would have to deal this day.

"Yes? Where is Gisborne?"

"Sir Guy sends a message," the man replied, handing a paper to Vaysey who took it irritatedly, grimacing as he knew this could not mean anything good. He had demanded the leper, not a love-letter from Gisborne...

There were only apologetic words in it, the man claiming that Marian had already been gone when he arrived at Locksley, and that in view of this, he had decided to give his position a rest for now, until he believed he could be of better use to the sheriff.

Vaysey groaned. Gisborne was a fool.

The sheriff wasn't quite sure if he even wanted to believe the man. Either the man was a liar and a traitor, or his incompetence had no limits. The question as to if he should replace Gisborne once again entered his mind. If Gisborne was betraying him, then he had to know.

"You," he pointed at the man who had carried the message. "You take a guard and search Gisborne's chamber. I want to know where he has gone. And anything else he's been hiding from me." Who knew how many lepers and bastards would still turn up, if one looked closely enough.

Vaysey followed the man out of the chamber, making his way downstairs to where Gisborne had housed. The door was easily forced open, the sparse interior not inviting one to come in, as the sheriff walked into the room. The man who had been ordered to the task was looking around the room now, opening the heavy wooden chest at one side of the room. After a few moments, he returned with a paper in his hand.

"I found this, my Lord."

Vaysey took it with only mild interest, but grew more agitated when he saw the seal of the unopened letter. It couldn't be...

He walked out of then chamber, leaving the man standing there. He had his eyes fixed on the letter and opened it, when he was sure that no one else was nearby. His worst fears were confirmed when he read the content. Gisborne was a traitor, and he, the sheriff was in grave danger. How else could he explain the offer he read there?

There was a lament, written in eloquent words as to the failure that he, Vaysey, the present sheriff of Nottingham was, the man who failed to pay the taxes that were due to the kingdom, the man who failed to apprehend outlaws, the same who caused him to fall further and further back in his obligations to the king, or as one should rather say, the prince.

And then there was Gisborne. The prince offered him his position, the one of the sheriff, if he was to rid the world of Vaysey, and would also manage to get the outlaws problem under control, enabling him to have the taxes flow as they should.

There was another point mentioned, one that caught Vaysey's attention only now. A delivery of valuables was to come to Nottingham, being sent by the prince as he intended to make Nottingham one of his strongholds, taking care to hide part of his treasure there, for times of need. The man wrote that Gisborne was to make sure it arrived; if Vaysey was still alive and in power at this point, the man was to take it as a sign – if Vaysey was to fail once again and the treasure to fall into outlaws' hands, the Master-At-Arms was to act immediately, removing Vaysey from his position.

The date mentioned for the delivery was the day that followed, as the sheriff realised as he stared down at the writing. The letter ended with a few false well wishes for the king who was captive in a foreign land.

Vaysey was shaking with rage.

A man came walking up to him then, as he was just marching down the hallway. "My lord, the prisoner has arrived."

"The prisoner?" The sheriff looked at him, willing to hurt the man just to let out the anger that was filling him.

"Robin Hood, my Lord."

"Hood?" Vaysey yelled incredulously. "Who cares about Hood when people are out to kill me?" His volume made the other shake only so slightly, and the sheriff helped the matter by grabbing the man's collar and shoving him against the next wall.

The man scrambled to his feet then, eyeing the sheriff. "What are we to do with him, my Lord?"

"Just put him somewhere," the sheriff retorted, marching off in the other direction, the letter still clutched in his hands. He had received plenty of communication from the prince himself and he had known that his position was shaky. But never before had he seen it this clear.

He had to contact the Black Knights. This could not go on like this. A solution had to be found, the world rid of Gisborne, the position with the prince re-established.

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The journey to Nottingham hadn't been pleasant, but then the guards that had come with him had at least made sure that he stayed alive. He had at first feared, or maybe hoped, seeing that it would have improved his chance of escape, that they would make him walk the whole way. But they hadn't done so, had gone for the faster and at the same time more secure way and had simply thrown him into a closed-off cart, making sure to bind him to the vehicle, too, ending any thoughts of flight.

Now that he knew that they had arrived at the gates of Nottingham, no matter that he could not actually see anything from inside the cart, the journey was coming to an end. Robin wondered where the gang was, if they knew what had happened, if they were well, if they had managed to bring the food to the people in the shire.

He himself had only seen scraps in the days it had taken them to get to Nottingham. He felt weakened now, exhausted both by the lack of food and fresh air, as well as by the lack of movement. He feared that he wouldn't be on his best in fighting back at the moment, but then he had seen worse, too. Losing hope had never gotten him anywhere.

The cart moved again then and from the sounds of it Robin believed to be able to discern that they were making their way to the castle now. A few minutes later the cart stopped, and the door of it was thrown open, light streaming inside, blinding Robin effectively.

"Uh, smelly," someone said, and Robin was almost surprised not to hear the voice of the sheriff. He would have expected the man to greet him personally.

He was pulled out of the wagon then and soon found himself in the familiar surroundings of the dungeons of Nottingham castle. As opposed to the one in York, he was alone there.

It didn't stay like this for many hours. Robin had tried to nap a bit, aware that he could never be sure when he next got the chance, when he was pulled out of his slumber as the door to the cell was thrown open, the iron creaking loudly. Guards moved in quickly.

Robin sat up, smirking at them. "Sheriff eager to see me, huh?" He wondered what the man was up to now, and his stomach tightened slightly at the memory of the last time he had been in the man's hand. He had been hoping this would never happen again.

He saw then that a man had arrived as well, one who clearly wasn't a guard. Robin figured it was the jailer, though it wasn't the same one he remembered.

"Just take him over there," the man ordered, and Robin raised his eyebrows, as the guards dragged him outside and then into another room.

"The sheriff is busy, so I thought we could get to know each other, as you will stay here for a while, I suppose," the man informed him, as he followed after the guards. The men pushed Robin against a wall, forcing his arms to the side, so they could be fixed to the wall, then binding his legs as well, before they left, leaving only the jailer behind.

"We're going to have a nice time together," the man smiled. "I can tell you a story, all the while we can also take care of you."

Robin didn't bother to reply, not able to do anything either.

"I can tell you about the jailer who worked here before me," the man continued then. "His name was Fred, but you don't care about that, do you?" The man showed a knife that he had taken from his belt. Looking at the blade, he went on, "Fred died a while ago. He was killed. Had his throat slit."

Robin frowned only slightly, having no idea why the man was even telling him this. The only worry could be that the other planned to do the same to Robin what had been done to the jailer, but he guessed that it would go against Vaysey's orders, as he still assumed that the man wanted to leave him alive for now, before he could personally take care of him.

"And shall I tell you who it was who did this?" the jailer asked then. "A woman." The man shook his head. "I can understand that the sheriff does not like them, lepers." He moved the knife around in front of Robin's eyes. "A noblewoman even more so."

Robin swallowed at this, only one person coming to his mind who the jailer might be speaking of.

"She lived up in the castle for a while, they say. The daughter of the former sheriff even, can you imagine that?" The man smiled, bringing his knife close to Robin's left hand, the archer clenching his fingers to a fist reflexively.

"What happened to her?" Robin forced himself to ask. Marian surely had gotten away, she certainly had had a plan, a reason even why she had killed the jailer... but then, he could not even imagine that she would have killed him in this brutal way. If she was forced to defend herself, she still would not have murdered him in this way... something must have gone wrong, or maybe the story was all wrong all the way...

"The sheriff sentenced her to hang," the jailer told him cheerily.

Robin gasped, an eerie numbness already having come over him. "And... and, has she been hanged already?" he breathed, this time clenching the other hand to a fist as the jailer was approaching it with the knife.

"Not yet," the other man replied. "On the run, she is, but I'm sure she will be caught. Just as you were, my dear boy."

Robin swallowed down the lump that had been in his throat. She was alive... she was free... he could only hope she would find safety somewhere...

"Let us come back to you now," the jailer spoke up. "I hear you are a fine archer, the best there is, they say." The man once again brandished the knife. "And a thief, that you are as well."

Robin smiled at this, knowing it was the truth. "We usually don't call it like that."

"So what is the penalty for thievery?" the jailer asked him.

"Hanging," Robin shrugged, communicating no news in his mind. That was what the sheriff tended to do, at the least.

The other man nodded. "Yes, yes, but I thought of something else. Seeing what a fine archer you are, and a fine thief as well, I figured we could end both of these careers here." He smiled again. "Taking a few of these fingers off isn't going to make it easier drawing a bow, now is it?" He motioned with the knife to Robin's right hand.

He clenched his fingers into a fist again, his heart beating more hurriedly now, as fear was coming over him. Not only fear of pain, he had experienced that before, but of things that were permanent, injuries that could never heal.

The jailer reached out with his hand, touching Robin's. "Now, how many of those does an archer need? Can you tell me?"

"I sure need only one hand to take you out, don't worry about that," Robin returned, though his mouth was dry. The other man then tried to force his hand open, but Robin kept his fist closed with all of his might. He couldn't win in the end, he knew, but he could not just give up either.

The jailer sighed. He stepped away from Robin, and the archer breathed a small sign of relief, as the man turned away from him. Maybe he had given up. The other walked out of the room, only to return a few moments later, this time with several of the guards on his heels.

"Get him to open his hand," the man ordered.

"I'm not sure the sheriff will be so happy if I die so early," Robin tried his luck again.

"Don't worry; I'll make sure you will stay alive, so you can meet the sheriff later. In fact, he'll probably reward me for taking the initiative."

Two of the guards took hold of Robin's arm, trying to force his hand open, as Robin was still clenching his fist. Finally they succeeded and pressed the back of his hand against the cold wall behind him. Robin kept struggling against it, hating the fright that was running through him.

"So you will be a nice boy and let me see the fingers now?" the jailer clarified.

Robin stared back at him. "And you wonder why the previous jailer was killed."

He was reminded of the day he had first met Allan, then when the man had nearly suffered a similar fate; he also thought of Dan, who had been maimed as he took the punishment that would have come to his sons.

He tried to fight, trying to free his arm, but the guards held it down, as the jailer approached.

"I'm waiting," the man said.

"Go to hell," Robin muttered, looking away from his hand, as he struggled still, closing his eyes then, trying to brace himself for the pain that was to come.

He could feel a sharp sting as the blade touched the skin of his index finger, cutting into it ever so slightly. The pain caused in him another rush to stop this from happening. Shaking now, he tried again to move his hand away, causing the guards to hold him yet tighter as the jailer set on again. Failing to move any further, Robin tried to remember that if he was going to die, it did not matter anyway. And if he was to live, maybe then he could learn to draw the bow with his left hand...

**TBC**


	13. Ambush

**A/N: Thanks to Emmithar for the beta!**

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**Chapter 13: Ambush**

Marian had been glad to hear the men approaching the camp, not doubting for a moment that Robin would be among them. Now that she had heard the reason for his absence, a cold shiver went over her, the sorrow she had previously felt turning to misery. It couldn't be... she couldn't lose him, too...

"How did this happen?" John asked then.

"And where is he now?" Djaq added.

Allan glanced at Marian, before he replied. "In York, I mean, he was caught in York, but they're taking him to Nottingham. Sheriff's paying a sum and all."

"_He _was there, when it happened," Much added in a somewhat accusing tone of voice, motioning to Allan. Marian's attention was suddenly drawn to the man, remembering the conversation she and Robin had had before the gang's departure from Nottinghamshire.

"What do you mean?" Will questioned.

"Robin told me to stay with the horses because he didn't trust Allan with them," Much explained.

"That's not what he said," Allan protested.

"He and Allan went off, but Allan came back alone later, saying he had no idea what happened," the other man went on.

"It's true," Allan confirmed. "Got one over the head, and then Robin was gone."

"How do you know he's being brought to Nottingham then?" Marian intervened. She wondered how much the two men actually knew, if they had seen Robin, if they knew how he was faring...

"I heard it from a guard," Allan declared.

Marian frowned, guessing she had to believe what the man was saying, but still, matters were strange. She wondered what had happened, worrying that it was actually a traitor who had done Robin in. She looked at Allan and tried to discern from his eyes what was going on in his head... Robin had not told her his suspicion, who he suspected, but she had felt that he had a name on his mind, when she had told him that Gisborne had met a man at the tavern in Nottingham. Had Gisborne then received the promise that Robin was delivered to him? Had the traitor acted in York? She couldn't say, and for now she knew that freeing the man was of more urgency.

"We go to Nottingham," John decided, and Marian nodded to this, though the man looked at her concerned, as she did this.

But Robin wasn't here and she doubted that any of the men would try and keep her from going to the Nottingham as well, if she wanted to do so. There was the additional point of them not knowing what had transpired there. They did not know that was facing the same risk as they did, when coming to the town.

"We also brought the rest of the food," Allan said then, all of a sudden. "Figured Robin wouldn't want us to leave it behind and all."

John nodded at this, and Marian could understand the outlaws' concern with the matter, though her mind was on entirely different things now, no matter that she knew that the villagers needed the supplies.

"Where did you leave them? At our big storages?" Will asked.

Allan nodded. "We did, right before coming here."

"Robin?" Much asked then, and causing them to focus their attention on their leader again, the outlaws readied themselves to leave for Nottingham. Marian noticed only now that Much was carrying Robin's bow. In a way, it was a depressing sight, to know the man separated from his weapon, imagining him defenceless against his enemies.

As the outlaws moved out of the camp, Marian trailed Will, resolving to talk to him. She had to mention what she knew, what Robin had suspected. She wasn't certain who of the men she could actually trust, seeing that she was not trusting at least one of them, but she knew that Will had grown up at Locksley, and that his father had been a friend of Robin's; she could not imagine the man would betray him now. Neither had Will been there when Robin had been taken captive in York. And still, if he were the traitor after all, maybe she would be able to discern as much from his reaction to her statements. She had to start somewhere, after all, as she feared that Robin's rescue was in jeopardy because there might be a traitor lurking among them.

Night had fallen when they reached Nottingham. The town's gates were closed and Marian was curious how the outlaws planned to get inside now. As they lay in waiting, she took care to stay with Will, still waiting for an opportunity to speak to him in private.

"Will?"

"Yeah?" The man turned to her with an open expression.

"Can I trust you with something?"

"Sure." The man seemed slightly confused. "What is it?"

Marian hesitated briefly. "I think there's a traitor in the gang. Robin thinks so, too." It was blunt, she knew, but they had little time.

Will didn't reply at first, staring at her wordlessly. "Are you sure what you're saying there?" he asked then. "I can understand you're shocked he was caught, but that doesn't mean he was betrayed or anything. It just happens; we all face the risk."

Marian shook her head. "He already thought so when we talked the last time. Before you left for York." She swallowed. "How can I know that not one of the gang is going to keep us from getting to him?" She looked down at the grassy ground.

"You can trust us," Will said firmly.

"And what about what Much said? That Robin didn't trust Allan?"

Will closed his eyes for a moment. "Much..." Then he shook his head and Marian wasn't sure if it was a shake at the other man, or at Will's own statement.

"Let's move," John called from the other side then, motioning them to follow. Marian hurried after Will, trying to focus on what needed to be done instead of the other matters on her mind.

The outlaws sneaked close to the town's gate, but just before they got there, Marian noticed a movement to the side and she slowed down, trying to call and caution the men who were hurrying along. They didn't hear her, and she tried to find cover, figuring they would all have to sneak into the town, and meet up again inside, hopefully drawing less attention to them this way as if they were to try and get in all in one big group.

She moved towards the town's walls then, wondering if she might try and get in at the west gate. She knew she could climb along the houses that were located there, easily reaching the castle this way. She had done so before, or rather the Nightwatchman had.

She couldn't see or hear the outlaws anymore at this point, and decided that it was just as well that she was on her own. She could trust herself; she had managed to defy the sheriff in secret long before Robin had even returned from the Holy Land, long before the gang of outlaws had started to do so on a regular basis.

She slipped around the corner to the west gate, seeing quickly that no guard was standing there at the moment. She knew they were making their rounds, but if she hurried, she might be in, before they came to look the next time. Glancing left and right she broke into a run and skirted through the slight crack between the gates, her small form having little problems getting through. Then she turned left, rushing along the narrow alley, before she found a good place to climb upwards.

From somewhere she heard shouts. Listening, she determined quickly that they were in the far distance, somewhere close to the main gate, as she guessed, fearing that it were the outlaws that had been discovered. She hoped it would give her the chance to slip into the castle, as the guards might be distracted by the others, no matter that this certainly had not been their plan. But Marian needed to get inside, needed to get to Robin.

Carefully she walked along the roofs of the houses, knowing her way from here, as she had taken it before. She felt somewhat more exposed this time, not wearing the concealing mask of the Nightwatchman. She stopped briefly to listen for any more sounds, but the noise from earlier had died down, and she hoped that the outlaws had gotten away safely.

She moved on then and came only to a stop when she could see the movement of a light down in the alley. She held her breath, watching and listening as a guard walked alongside the houses. When he had passed, she continued on, but was stopped then as a call came from behind.

"Hey you, stop!"

She didn't intend to obey, hurrying forward instead, leaping over the gap between two houses as she hurried to reach cover. She could hear the clanging of armour and knew that more men were following.

"I said halt!"

Marian turned her head to look down at the street and stopped, as she saw several bows trained on her. Maybe it was not even a bad thing that she was not the Nightwatchman now, seeing that he had been ordered to be shot on sight.

"Come down," one of the guards said, and Marian climbed down to the alley, briefly cursing her stupidity not to have stopped earlier. She could have convinced these men that she was just a girl out of bounds; now they would know something was wrong.

The man in front of her narrowed his eyes, holding the torch closer to her to get a better look.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm...eh, Sarah," she said quickly, the first name coming to mind.

"What do you think you are doing?" the man returned, but another was coming up to his side, looking down at her in the shine of the torch.

"Looks to me more like the daughter of the old sheriff," he mused. "The one who ran with old Edward and killed the jailer on the way."

"I'm not her," Marian quickly intervened, staying to try calm, the accusation regarding to the jailer's killing ringing in her mind though. It had been Guy's doing, not hers, not that the sheriff would care about anything like that.

"You sure about that?" the guard ignored her interruption, lifting his sword to keep her in toe.

The man frowned. "Yes, I am."

"What did the sheriff want to do with her again?"

"Hanging, I suppose."

The other shook his head. "I'm not taking anyone to the gallows before I've made sure. And not at this hour anyway."

Marian tried to glance around unnoticeable, searching for a way out.

"I'm not going to wake the sheriff at this hour either. He'll have to deal with it tomorrow."

The other man shrugged. "Just take her to the dungeons then. Won't hurt a silly girl like her in any way to spend a night there. She can have some fun with the rats."

Marian still hoped that they would actually consider her a random girl from town who had been apprehended. Then they might even let her go in the morning before the sheriff would be informed. But she actually doubted her luck would hold like that. Some of the guards might not be certain about her identity as of yet, but there were plenty who certainly knew her face. She wouldn't stand a chance; not like this.

They led her over the castle yard and then down into the castle itself. On the way she noticed that there seemed to be no other new prisoners being brought, causing her to hope for the outlaws. The guards brought her around a few corners and stopped then, one of them opening a door.

"Jailer, you're needed," he called into the room, and Marian could fleetingly see other guards holding a man against the wall at the other side of the dark chamber, sounds of a struggle reaching her ear, before the addressed man came walking to the door, hindering her sight on the scene.

"We've got a new one," the guard explained, motioning to Marian.

The jailer frowned. "I'm not done here yet."

"Don't care," the other man returned. "My shift's almost over. You can get back to it once you've taken this one off my hands."

The jailer sighed, putting away the knife he had been carrying, blood still visible on it, and pulled out his keys. "This way," he said.

As she was pushed along, Marian's thoughts returned to the scene she had briefly witnessed. She hadn't seen his face, but his posture, and the fact that she knew he had to be down here somewhere, made her fear that it had been Robin. She felt cold at the thought of what possibly had been done there.

The jailer opened a cell then, motioning for the guards to get Marian inside.

"What was so important that you couldn't spare a moment?" one of the men asked, moving aside to let the jailer lock the door.

"I wanted to take a few digits off the archer. Make sure he doesn't draw a bow again, no matter how good he is," the man chuckled, while the guard who had asked looked disgusted.

Hearing the words caused a cold rage in Marian, and hurrying forward, she pushed against the closing cell door, catching the jailer in surprise and hitting him full force with the iron frame. The man slumped down, while the guards were watching, one laughing quietly.

Another one moved to close the door in the jailer's stead, and Marian could hear the lock clicking, as she stared at the men.

"Our friend is out for now, it seems," one said, shaking his head. They dragged the unconscious jailer away, leaving Marian alone then, who feared that her luck would finally run out, once the morning would come and the sheriff would be able to tell what was to be done. It had started down here, when she had tried to free her father; but now she had ended up here just the same.

It was then that she realised that she still had her dagger, still fixed in her hair as it had been before, the guards not having recognised it as what it was. She reached for it, but left it where it was, knowing it would have no use unless she found herself confronted only by the jailer, not by a troop of guards with swords.

A few minutes later she could hear sounds again and saw the guards returning, dragging a man with them. Carrying the jailer's keys, one of them opened the cell next to Marian's.

"Jailer's indisposed as of now, but he'll see you later," he told the man, as he pushed the prisoner inside. The light was still dim, most of the cell engulfed in darkness, but Marian was now sure that it was Robin. It couldn't be anyone else. What the jailer had said only confirmed it yet more.

Instinctively she curled her fingers into a fist, imagining what might have happened, and prayed that it hadn't taken place. Once she heard the door above closing, knowing they were alone now, she moved closer to the bars, peeking to the other side. It was hard to make out anything, she could only distinguish that he had slid over to sit with his back against the wall.

"Robin?"

There seemed to be a slight movement on the other side, but no reply came.

"Robin," she repeated, more insistently, more worry creeping into her voice.

"I'm fine," he said then, but it didn't sound convincing.

She swallowed. "What... happened?" He didn't answer her, and she tried again. "Can you come closer?" she asked.

He made a sound that seemed almost a laugh. "What use would that have?"

"Robin, please."

"The jailer, he said you had escaped," he spoke then, sounding confused. "It was a lie then."

Marian sighed. "It is a long story."

"Tell me."

"Tell me first what happened, please?"

He chuckled then, and this time it sounded more like him, causing her to smile despite the situation, before there was silence again.

"Please come here," she asked him then.

He came and as dim as the light was she could finally make out his form a little more clearly. His right arm was pressed against his tunic, and it wasn't easy to miss the dark stains that were underneath. She held out a hand, the want obvious, and only after a moment did he relinquish, allowing her to handle the injured limb.

It was a relief to see all his fingers were intact, but cuts were there in the palm of his hand, defensive wounds from when he had fought against it, she presumed. They were painful looking, easily telling of what had transpired earlier. Marian felt sick, knowing of what would have followed had she not been taken down here at the moment she had been. Perhaps it was a blessing for her to have been separated from the others and caught as she was.

She dropped his hand, pulling up the folds of her dress, tearing the material even as Robin tried to stop her. When she had a length in her hands she beckoned for his again, and he gave it with a sigh.

"I have no way of cleaning it," she told him quietly, tying off the one end. It would do nothing for the pain, but at least it would help to ease the flow of blood.

He tried to curl his fingers, but she could see that it caused him to flinch.

"Don't do this," she said.

"I can still move them," he returned, breathing out heavily.

She nodded, knowing that it had caused him concern.

"Your men will come for you," she said. "They're out there, they know you're here and they will come."

"I don't think the jailer's going to be satisfied with what he did so far," Robin returned, and she could see his worry. It was strange to see him so, he who hadn't shown any worry about being strung up by the sheriff outside. He seemed to force a smile then, one that became more genuine as he went along with it, "But you're right. My men will come, for the both of us."

She knew he wanted to spread optimism, and she wondered if she now wanted to talk to him about the suspicion, the traitor she feared might lurk in the gang.

Before she could start anything on that matter, he went on, "Tell me what happened."

She wanted to ask him as well, about what had happened in York. While she had already received an explanation by Much and Allan, she wanted to hear it from him, wanted to learn what he had seen. She nodded though, beckoning him to sit down, and she tried to find a place for herself, relieved to see that no rats seemed to be scurrying around, no matter what the guards had been joking about.

As she started to explain, she could hardly believe it had only been a few days since it had happened. "My father is dead," she told him.

Robin reached out to her again, his uninjured hand coming to rest on hers. "I'm sorry."

She nodded. "He died at Locksley," she went on then, and could see the surprise and confusion in his face.

"How-?"

"I went to free him," she explained. "I came down here, knocked out the jailer - I didn't kill him – that was Gisborne-"

"Gisborne?" Robin asked sharply.

"I came to free my father, but Gisborne caught me." She grimaced, knowing she could have ended up at the same place as she was now, if Guy had not helped her. "We argued," she admitted. "But then he helped, and got us to Locksley."

"And slit the jailer's throat," Robin intervened.

Marian nodded, not willing to dwell on that matter. "We were at Locksley for a few days, before my father passed away." She closed her eyes, trying to swallow down the lump in her throat.

When she looked up at him again, she saw that he wanted to know more, but kept his questions at bay. She nodded again then. "The morning, after the service, Gisborne sent a message that I needed to leave. I believe the sheriff found him out."

"Where did you go?"

"To your camp." She smiled. "I met your men there. They know you're here. They're planning to come for you."

"And you went with them?"

"We got separated. And I was caught."

"We will get out of here," Robin promised.

Reaching up into her hair again, she said, "I still have my dagger. But it's no good picking locks." She smiled.

Robin shook his head. "It won't work. Keep it. If... if you should be taken outside... use it."

She nodded, not willing to mention the likelihood that when she would be taken outside, she would be both bound and surrounded by guards, ready to take her to the gallows for the sheriff's amusement.

She once again wondered what had happened to Guy, though she knew she could not hope that he would come for her again. If he even knew about her being down here, if he was even willing to free her, she knew the sheriff would not allow it.

* * *

They hadn't managed to get into the castle. They had made it into the town alright, but then they had soon been discovered, as a guard spotted Allan creeping along, apparently becoming suspicious. He had raised an alarm, and seconds later all of the outlaws had been on the run.

They fled the town, wonder still in them as to where Marian was. She had been separated from them, even before they had sneaked into Nottingham, causing questions as to her having followed another course of action now. Will was worried about her, imagining that she might go so far to take any rash actions, remembering how he himself had felt after his father's death.

Of course Marian would not go and try to kill the sheriff, no matter that she might blame him for Sir Edward's falling health that had finally caused his death, but Will could imagine that she would become reckless in trying to free Robin.

He knew there was nothing the gang could do about it now, having no clue as to where she even was. They still had to get to Robin, but before that they had to wait for calm to return to the guards that paid attention to anyone who entered the town.

They made their way back to the forest, the darkness around them becoming more complete.

"We go back to camp?" Much asked then, sounding somewhat exhausted, but turning around to look back into the direction from where they had come from. Will knew that Much would not rest before they had gotten into Nottingham again.

"I don't think we have the time," he said.

"That's what I think," Much confirmed. "We wait here, go back, when they'll all have calmed down, and find Robin."

The outlaws settled down to wait in the underbrush, Will letting his thoughts wander to what had happened this day, and what was to come the next.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Allan said suddenly.

"Why?" Will wasn't able to see his face.

"Guard seeing me and all," he answered, Will able to make out a shrug.

He frowned, it being unusual for Allan to feel sorry about something like that, something that could simply happen to all of them.

"Sometimes I think you're really working against Robin, you know?" Much spoke up. "First he gets caught with you around, then you're spotted when we try to rescue him."

Will could hear that Much was only speaking his mind, was not directly accusing Allan, no matter that he had argued earlier in anger that Robin did not trust Allan.

"What do you want to say with that?" Allan returned.

Will thought back to what Marian had told him. He still thought that she had spoken in distress about what had happened, but then, if it was true that Robin suspected it, too... Will didn't quite think that Allan had been spotted on purpose earlier.

"I'm just saying..." Much replied.

"Be quiet," Djaq said suddenly-

"But-" Allan argued.

"Quiet!" John ordered, and as everyone fell silent, Will could hear that there were other sounds out there. It took some moments before they became clearer. There were people and horses moving along the road nearby. And then light also found its way through the thickness of the underbrush and Will could see that torches were being carried in the distance.

"Are they searching for us?" Allan wondered.

"They're not coming from Nottingham, they're going there," Will replied quietly.

"Why do they come at night?" Djaq asked in a just as low voice.

Much was moving forward then and the moment Will realised what he was doing, he followed him, knowing he wouldn't be able to stop him anymore. He could hear that Djaq, John and Allan were following on his heels.

Much jumped out onto the road.

"This, is an ambush," he declared, as the horses jumped nervously in front of him, the men alongside of them just as surprised, as they scurried about to protect a wooden chest that was being carried along.

Later, as the outlaws had taken to their heels, with as much of the treasure they had run into as they could carry, Will wondered if they hadn't raised yet more alarm in Nottingham doing this. But then, maybe the sheriff would come looking for them in Sherwood now, and wouldn't expect them in Nottingham, no matter that this was where they would go, once they had hidden the silver that would buy the next supplies for the villages.

Now they had to rescue Robin. They might be able to work on their own as well, but they had to get their leader out of there; Will felt that they owed it to him.

**TBC**


	14. Offer

**A/N: Thanks to Emmithar for the beta! :)**

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**Chapter 14: Offer**

The first thing he felt was anger, a raging sensation in him to hurt whatever fell into his hands. Then followed cold dread. Dread, that Gisborne was lurking in the shadows, coming to stab him in the back, and take what was rightfully Vaysey's.

But then, the man was not even in Nottingham. As far as the sheriff knew. The man could not know that this had happened, or what the prince's letter had predicted might happen. Gisborne could not know that outlaws had taken the prince's silver on its way to Nottingham.

With this thought, the sheriff stopped, his gaze fixed out of the window of his chamber, seeing the forest in the far distance. How, on earth, had the outlaws even known?

The sheriff had long suspected that someone from the castle was feeding information to Hood and his gang. A considerable time ago, Gisborne had even laid a trap for that someone, then claiming he had detected that it was Marian who was betraying them to the outlaws, only to renounce the accusation soon after, right before announcing that he was to marry her.

The sheriff was thinking hard about this, and putting two and two together, he found a solution. The leper had actually been spying for the outlaws, Gisborne choosing to look away from the fact as he was to get her as his wife, just as he had looked away, helped her even when she had come and freed Sir Edward. Vaysey grabbed the silver cup on his table, throwing it against the wall with a loud bang.

But then he wondered that this could still not be everything. For the leper was not even at the castle anymore, so she had no chance to know that the silver was coming to Nottingham. How could the outlaws have known then, how could they have managed to take it? Now that he had even Hood in his grasp, his gang could still dance around on his nose, and he had not even an idea how they managed to do so.

The sheriff slumped down in his chair. Gisborne would come. The man Vaysey had given everything. Gisborne would kill him, with permission of, on wish of, the prince even. Then Gisborne would become sheriff.

Vaysey had to stop him. He had to stop the man, had to get the prince's treasure back, had to ensure that taxes were flowing so he could pay what John demanded. The day before he had sent off letters to the Black Knights, had informed them about the gravity of the situation, but he feared the traitors might rather turn away from him, if they knew how he really stood with the prince.

He would have to double his guards, make sure Gisborne would not be able to get near to him. Not that any precaution like that had helped back when that man of DeFortney's, his former Master-of-Arms, had been out to kill him. And Gisborne knew his habits. Vaysey hated to admit it even to himself, but he was afraid.

The only solution out of these undesirable emotions was to make someone else afraid, very afraid. Clenching his fists, Vaysey stormed out of his chamber, making his way downstairs. To get Hood to fear him was going to be a great pleasure. The man had already been more than a day down there, at the least. It was time to go and see to him...

As he came down into the dungeons, a guard approached him.

"My Lord Sheriff."

"What is it now?" Vaysey grimaced, already looking around for where Hood was.

"Last night we apprehended a woman. Some believe it is the Lady Marian," the man reported.

"The leper?" the sheriff was not sure if he was pleasantly or unpleasantly surprised. So Gisborne hadn't brought her, but she had ended up here anyway. The fool, Gisborne that was.

"You can see for yourself," the guard replied then. "She's down there, right next to the outlaw," he pointed in one direction.

"Right next to Hood? Now that is interesting," Vaysey mused. Hungry for a stress relief, the sheriff strode down to the indicated place. He purposefully kept to the shadows, wanting to see the proof for what he already knew to be true: Marian and Hood were in league with each other.

And then he could hear sweet music. It wasn't as sweet as it could have been, seeing that it came from the leper, but he could hear the anxiety, the worry in it, and that was what made it heavenly.

"Robin, you need to wake up," she called quietly, and Vaysey could see that she was huddled on the floor, looking through the bars to the cell on the other side where Hood was lying on the ground, unresponsive.

The sheriff could not see what was wrong with the man, but the idea that he was dead caused a strange excitement in him. No... this would have been far too easy a way to go for the outlaw.

"Robin," the leper called again, falling silent then, as the jailer stepped into view. The man had not noticed the sheriff either and Vaysey was enjoying himself to a great extend. Hood dying would always be a pleasant memory, no matter that his gang of outlaws would likely still keep annoying him, as he had experienced this very day.

"He needs help," Marian said suddenly, and Vaysey realised that she was speaking to the jailer, wondering in amusement why she would assume the man would even consider helping.

"Does he?" the jailer returned.

"He's running a fever," Marian explained. "He needs water. His wounds need to be cleaned." She glanced over to the outlaw again, and Vaysey could see her anguish. "Or he's going to die," she said then.

"You think so?" the jailer mused, opening the door to Hood's cell, and for a moment both Vaysey as well as apparently Marian thought that he was actually going to get help for the outlaw. But then the man removed a knife from his belt, looking at it with glee. "I wonder if this is going to be easier today. Pity he's so far removed from us, but he will notice when he wakes up."

"Don't touch him!" Marian cried, as the man moved closer to where the outlaw lay. "You bastard," she cursed as he lifted Hood's hand, that was bandaged, as Vaysey noticed.

"Now, now, now," the jailer smiled, as he pressed the outlaw's hand on the floor.

A second later there was a yelp of pain, and Vaysey was just as startled, as he could see the dagger sticking out of the man's torso. The leper had thrown it in one swift motion.

The jailer dragged himself out of the cell, barely managing to lock it again. Vaysey grimaced. And that was a man he had hired only recently. What a failure he was, no matter that he seemed to have a good taste for pain.

"Now wasn't that amusing," the sheriff said, as he stepped forward into the dim light.

Marian lifted her gaze from Robin to him.

"Lady Marian," he smiled. "No Gisborne here to save the day, hmm?"

Her face hardened.

"Are you going to ask me for help, too? Help, help, he needs water," he mocked, glancing around in the dungeons. He stepped closer to her then, also taking a good look at the outlaw. The man was still unconscious, not lying still anymore though, but shaking, if from cold, or fever, Vaysey could not determine, and had little inclination to. The only pity was that he would not see the man hang, if the fever took him.

"I'm feeling a little off myself today," he went on then. "And I think a good hanging might rectify that," he smirked at Marian. "Now Hood isn't in any state for that, and you know well enough that you've been on that path all along, my dear, don't you?"

He turned around. "Guards."

As the men came hurrying up to him, he faced the leper again. "Make sure she doesn't have any of those daggers on her anymore, unless you prefer to end up like the jailer. Prepare her for hanging."

A guard moved to the jailer that was sitting against a wall, panting heavily and holding a bleeding wound from that he had removed Marian's dagger. The guard retrieved the jailer's keys before moving to unlock the door, several more men following as he moved in.

Vaysey watched as Marian struggled against the guards for some moments, before her hands were successfully bound.

"Any last wishes?" he asked gleefully, and saw that she glanced into the outlaw's direction. "Help for Hood?" the sheriff prompted. "We can arrange that. Bring a bucket of water," he ordered one of the guards, and the man hurried off to follow the request.

Minutes later he returned, the other guards meanwhile having pulled Marian from her cell, waiting with her alongside the sheriff now.

"What am I to do with it?" the guard asked then.

"Just pour it over him," the sheriff replied, watching Marian as the guard did so. She winced, but didn't say anything. "Are we ready now?" he asked, motioning the men to take her outside.

Once they were on the castle yard, he could see how pale she really was. There was fear, great fear, no matter that she was trying to hide it. The sheriff had her wait while the guards prepared the gallows.

He enjoyed himself immensely, though also worry was creeping back into him. Gisborne would come. It was only a question of time, before he would come to finish him off. Now even more so, when he learned that Vaysey had the leper hanged.

The sheriff grimaced, fearing there was no one who would be able to protect him from Gisborne but himself. He wouldn't be able to ride out into the forest though and search every square foot for the outlaws and the treasure they had taken. It was all a hopeless endeavour, no matter how much he enjoyed the current scene.

He looked at Marian, saw the fright in her that she so much wanted him not to see. He thought of the man down in the dungeons, Hood, who he had in his hands. Marian cared for the outlaw, ridiculing once again the desires Gisborne had. Gisborne, who was a traitor.

As the guards led her up to the gallows, there was yet another image on the sheriff's mind. It was an idea, a crazy, outlandish one, but then he doubted his position could become much worse than it was now. Vaysey's mind was filled with a plan.

He looked at Marian, who was shivering slightly in the upcoming wind of this cold spring day, and smirked. He would have loved to see her dangle for a bit, cutting her down after a while, but then these were maybe games he could not allow himself anymore, if he wanted to survive, and hold his power. There were plans to be set in motion. He waved to the guards, telling them to stop and bring her down. The fear he had seen was still exquisite to remember, while he knew that he had to take matters into his hands.

* * *

When he woke up, he found himself on the ground, shivers going through him, as he could feel the hotness of his skin contrasting with the cold of the stone, and the wetness of his clothes, causing him confusion as to what had happened.

He sat up, pushing himself backwards, so he could sit with his back against the wall. He recognized the signs only too well. He had experienced a similar state in the Holy Land, then when he had taken fever there. He looked down at his hand that was throbbing in pain again, his gaze only landing at the makeshift bandage there that Marian had torn from her dress.

The thought made him look up, over to where she was, only to find her gone. The cell was empty and there was no sign of her. Anxiety rose in him at her disappearance. While he hoped she had managed to escape, he did not think she would have left him behind... but then, maybe he had been so far gone in his fever that she had thought she had no way to get him away. As much as he feared the alternative, Robin could not believe this had been the case, knowing that Marian would rather stay, stubborn as she was... What then had happened to her?

In his worried state, he hadn't noticed the presence of the man at first. He had been waiting for him to come down here at some point. He knew the sheriff wouldn't be able to resist flaunting his prize.

Robin did his best to move shakily to his feet, unwilling to have the other man now how badly off he really was, still leaning against the wall behind him. Vaysey watched him unmoved, almost as if he was some kind of exhibition. He was strangely quiet.

Robin tried to keep breathing evenly, as the blood seemed to rush to his head, questions and fears as to what had happened to Marian running through him even more so now that he saw the vicious man standing there, watching him.

"I think we can come to a... compromise," the man started then slowly.

"Let me guess," Robin replied sarcastically. "I tell you all of my secrets, and you'll give me a swift death?"

"Interesting concept, wish I'd thought of it," the sheriff replied. "No, I have a much more interesting proposition. A way in which we can help each other, and benefit."

"I can't imagine what that is going to be," Robin shook his head, bringing himself to set a smirk on his face.

"The king, as I am sure you know, is being held for ransom. We have to pay that ransom."

Robin lifted his eyebrows, having no idea what the man wanted to tell him by that. He was aware of the situation, but he could not imagine that the sheriff cared about the king's welfare.

"England cannot afford it," Robin told him sternly, even though he knew it had to be done. If there was any hope for the king to return, then he had to escape his confines. That freedom was granted in exchange for money. "Tell me why it is that you are so concerned for his welfare? I figured you would be ecstatic about these circumstances."

"England cannot afford it because there are not enough taxes," the sheriff replied, evading the question. Robin knew this to be only half the truth, figuring the people would never be able to pay enough of those to afford the ransom.

"So you want my blessing to raise the taxes again?" Robin proposed in an irritated amusement.

"Last night a transfer of money was to come to Nottingham, carried by royal servants, bringing treasure that was supposed to help pay for the king's ransom," Vaysey explained. "Your men took it."

Robin smiled. He believed one thing, that the gang had taken the money, but he didn't trust in the sheriff's word that it had been intended for the king.

"So you want us to give it back?" he assumed, shaking his head with a humourless smile. "And as you were talking about a compromise, you mean that you get the money, and I get to die quickly?"

Vaysey smirked.

"Or do you even mean to say that I would walk free?"

The sheriff had to know very well that Robin would not agree to any such offers. As of now, he estimated his chances of survival slim, what with lack of food and water, and the conditions down here, leaving him without strength to fight against the fever. But if he were to die, the gang at least would have enough treasure to help the people still, if one was to believe Vaysey's story.

"So you would rather let your king rot away in a dungeon in a foreign land?" the sheriff went on. "You, the king's personal favourite, a warrior in his private guard? What will the people here think of you?"

It struck a nerve, and it angered him. He knew there had to be a way found for the king to return to England. If that meant paying off every bit of ransom, then so be it. But he knew just as well, that the common people could not afford to pay for it, and even less so to pay for it and for the sheriff's desires as well.

"Oh, and there's more to it," the sheriff went on. "I do not know, if you are aware of it, seeing your... limited range of movement at the moment, but Gisborne is a traitor."

Robin let out a laugh. "A traitor of the traitors?"

"He is planning to kill me," Vaysey clarified testily.

Robin knew that the sheriff did not need to say more. He was well aware of the fact that Prince John threatened to have Nottingham destroyed should anything happen to Vaysey. Robin doubted though that he could help the man, even if he would have wanted to.

"I cannot help you with that," he replied.

"Nottingham will burn, if I die," the sheriff reminded him unnecessarily.

Robin watched him from where he stood. It didn't make sense, the whole conversation. The sheriff was sprouting off things that seemed obvious, at the same time causing confusion in him as to what the man actually planned. He had said he wanted the silver back... and he seemed to fear Gisborne... but Robin still could not make out what was going on in the man's mind. Maybe his own brain was too fuzzy at the moment...

"What do you want?" he asked, glancing over to the empty cell next to his again. He couldn't ask the man about Marian. He would only choose to taunt him yet more, and if she was alive still, it would not do her any good to have the sheriff learn that they were allies. "What is it you want me to do for you?" There was a sarcastic tone he added to his voice, for the sheriff had to know very well that Robin would not work for his favour in any way.

"You will give the treasure back and you'll help me do something about Gisborne."

Robin laughed softly, "How exactly am I to do that while in here?"

"You will be pardoned," the sheriff answered without pause. "For any and all wrongdoings. Seeing that Gisborne will not be returning to Locksley anytime soon, the lands will be restored to your name. Of course, you will be expected to collect the taxes as demanded, and you will uphold the law without question."

Robin smiled slowly. It seemed absurd... had the man really just offered what he believed to have heard? He frowned. Maybe he slowly started to understand what the other man wanted. "You mean to do your bidding without question. I fear, I cannot. I do not agree to those terms."

The sheriff merely shrugged his shoulders. "Then I'll just hang you."

"And still you find yourself in the same position as before."

Robin wasn't exactly sure what this position was, apart from the fact that Vaysey believed that Gisborne could be a danger for him, but if the man was desperate enough to make these kind of offers to Robin, there had to be more to it. He couldn't imagine otherwise that Vaysey would offer anything like that just to regain some undetermined amount of treasure and potential help against Gisborne.

He shook his head again, not intending to agree to any such thing that he could only assume to be either trap or cruel joke on the sheriff's part.

"Oh, and your men, they'll hang one by one, too. Don't worry about that," Vaysey added before he turned on his heels, leaving the dungeons without another word. Robin slipped down to the ground again, only wanting rest.

His head was starting to hurt now, it being no surprise with the absurdity that this situation was, and the worry that crept through him at the same time. Looking down at his throbbing hand, he feared that it was lost, would have to be taken just to spare his life, if that was even possible still, the jailer winning after all, having destroyed all of Robin's ability that he needed in his fight against the sheriff. Greater yet was the worry as to what had happened, where Marian was, what was going on with any of his men. Robin wanted to learn of any of this, not listen to any more of the sheriff's absurd talk.

**TBC**


	15. Bargain

**A/N: Thanks to Emmithar for the beta as usual :)**

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**Chapter 15: Bargain**

Every time Robin heard steps coming towards him, he hoped it was his men coming, or Marian, having escaped this predicament, having waited for an opportunity to come back for him. At the same time he disliked this wish, considering the risk everyone would be taking with it.

When there was not the hope, there was the worry that the jailer would return, but for now, the man seemed to have vanished. He did not even come to shove any food or water Robin's way, and he wondered briefly, if this was now part of the sheriff's attempt to torment him.

He frowned, opening his eyes from the feverish doze he had been in, seeing that the same man was actually there again. He had probably come to make his ridiculous demands again. Robin smiled a little at the joke that it was, the man thinking he could still demand anything of him. He doubted the sheriff would even get to hang him; he would have to drag him to the gallows, before he succumbed to the fever.

"I've come back to talk about my proposition," Vaysey said then, and once he had forced the fog to the back of his mind, Robin actually noticed that the man seemed to be feeling off as well, although he was certainly not ill as Robin was. There was a strain in the man's posture that could not be missed. "What do you say," the sheriff started, "I pardon not only you, but also all your pesky little outlaw friends? Now, what do you say?"

Robin laughed, wondering then if he was already in the beginning stages of delirium.

"Oh, come on," Vaysey frowned. He turned to the guard behind him. "Bring some water." The man hurried off and the sheriff looked down at Robin again. "Do you agree to our deal?"

Robin shook his head, the laughter having died down. "Never."

The guard returned with a bucket of water and the sheriff motioned him to put it down in front of Robin. He eagerly grabbed the vessel, drinking the cold liquid gratefully.

"Who will help the poor people, if you're dead, hmm?" Vaysey went on.

"There are others," Robin replied, setting the bucket away and leaning back against the wall. "And if you want to hang me, you'll have to hurry."

"I don't want to hang you, Hood, I want you to work with me here," the sheriff called back, with a rising tone of anger.

"But I don't want to work with you," Robin spat out.

"Maybe I'll just hang someone else. Maybe this will make you reconsider."

Robin scoffed. The sheriff knew that he had first given up his lands, his title, had gone into outlawry to save his men from hanging, but there was little he could do to him now. His men were free, the sheriff had said so himself when he had complained about the ambush that had taken place. He didn't want any innocent villager to suffer at Vaysey's hand, so the man could hurt him, but then Robin doubted that he would have the chance to do so for very much longer.

The sheriff waved his hand then, and minutes later Robin could hear others arriving outside, a struggle going on at the same time, as someone was dragged towards the cell.

"Now, how would you like it, Hood, to see her hang?" Vaysey smirked now.

Robin looked up to see Marian being held by a guard on either side. It was a relief to see her alive, at the same time anger running through him at the actions of the sheriff, using her this way...

"Oh, and don't worry," the sheriff went on then. "I know about the two of you."

Robin gritted his teeth, as the man paced around in front of him.

"So what do you say? We string her up in the courtyard outside, short drop, I'd say, we don't want to break that pretty neck," Vaysey suggested. "You want to watch or not?"

"Robin," Marian said quickly.

The sheriff grinned. "Now what does she want to say with that, hmm?" He turned to Robin. "'Robin, don't do what the sheriff says' or 'Robin, don't let me die'." Vaysey showed his teeth.

Robin looked at her, swallowing heavily. He saw fear in her face, understandably. Otherwise she looked alright, having apparently escaped the worst cruelty of jailer or sheriff, and Robin was grateful for it.

"Don't hurt her," he said then. He didn't know what else to say, wondering what any of the pride he wished to retain would bring him, if it meant that it caused Marian's death.

The sheriff waved his hand again then, and the guards pulled her away, Robin watching as they did so.

"I'll leave you to reconsider your decision now, but I'll be back in an hour," Vaysey announced. "I'll have the hangman arrange everything outside, so that we can start once I hear back from you." The man strode out then and the door of the cell was locked as it had been before.

The sheriff had him in his hands, this much was clear. Before, the man had tortured villagers to get to him, and Robin had been ready to give himself up to the gallows to stop it. How could he refuse now to accept the sheriff's deal, if it meant Marian's death to do so?

Robin did not know what the sheriff really planned; he was sure that the man had not told him the whole truth, maybe not even part of the truth; but at the same time he figured that the situation could not get any worse. It could not hurt worse to accept the proposition. He didn't know if he would even see the next day, and if he did, he could still see what it would bring, if he really was to return to Locksley as Vaysey promised. He only had to ensure Marian's freedom, then it would not matter if Vaysey actually held true to his word.

It didn't take long till the man returned, striding into the dungeon's cell once again. Robin moved to his feet shakily as he did so.

"So, what is your decision?"

Robin nodded. "I accept your offer."

The sheriff grimaced, but Robin could not say what the feelings of the man were.

"There is a condition though," Robin added.

"What is that?" Vaysey asked, lifting his eyebrows as he looked at the other.

"Marian needs to go free," Robin took a breath, forcing his voice to sound firm.

"Ah, ladidadida," the sheriff rolled his eyes. "The leper stays here, or how else do I know you will comply?"

Robin shook his head, guessing that their agreement was already coming to an end now. "Then I won't accept." At the same time as he said it, he knew that he would have to agree in any way.

After a moment the sheriff sighed. "You get the leper. But you will make sure," he pointed with a finger at Robin, "that I get the silver your men took from me yesterday."

Robin shrugged at this, but grew more serious then. "You will take me to Marian now." The sheriff was technically still standing in his way out of the cell, but moved to the side then. Robin felt unsure turning his back to the man, but figured Vaysey could have found plenty of other ways to kill him, if he wanted to do so.

"Take him to Lady Marian," the sheriff ordered a guard pointedly. The guard was about to grab Robin's arm, but the sheriff shook his head with a pained expression. "He is free to go." Coming up from behind Robin, leaning in over his shoulder, he added more quietly, "If you do what we agreed upon."

Robin's answer consisted in walking out of the cell, following the guard that was supposed to take him to Marian. He was very wobbly on his legs, and could feel the fog around his mind returning, his hand once again in a dull, throbbing pain, but he had to keep moving for now. Maybe he would actually he able to rest later; maybe he could get to Djaq, and she would be able to do something about the fever he had caught; maybe he would survive all of this.

The man he had been following came to a halt in front of him, turning left and right, apparently in confusion.

"What is wrong?" Robin asked, trying to ready himself for any kind of trap, but figuring that he had little chance as of now.

"She was here," the guard replied, pointing at an empty cell in front of them.

"Then where is she now?" Robin wanted to know, his eyebrows lifted. This didn't make sense in his mind, but then, little made sense today. He shook his head, before touching his forehead with his uninjured hand. It was still hot to his touch.

"I don't know," the guard admitted, still looking around. "The sheriff had the gallows readied, but I don't-"

The man didn't get to say more, as Robin was already hurrying away, as quick as his staggering step was carrying him. He knew the way; he had fled from here before. According to the sheriff, this wasn't a flight now, he was free to go, the man had said, but how many lies had he actually told? Fearful images came to his mind, as he ran up the steps towards the castle yard.

When he rushed out onto the yard, a few guards tried to stop him, but he ducked past them, coming to a halt outside. The gallows were actually ready, as both sheriff and guard had told him, but deserted. His worst fear not being confirmed, a cruel joke of the sheriff that had played in his mind, he was doubling over in exhaustion, trying to catch his breath again. He still didn't know where Marian was, but at least, she wasn't here.

The guards had caught up with him by now, pointing their swords at him, but Robin ignored them, still trying to focus on his breathing and the ever increasing difficulty of having the world not spin around him.

He could see the sheriff coming out of the castle then, who was grimacing at the scene before him.

"Why did they never catch you, when it actually mattered?" he asked, looking mockingly at the confused castle guards. "Just let him go."

"I still want to know where Marian is," Robin pointed out, doing his best to stand up fully again as the guards moved away from him.

"Your little bird seems to have flown away," the sheriff muttered drearily. "The guards can catch a man that is free to go, but seem to have let a leper slip through their grasps. You may believe me or not, but I didn't lay a hand on her." He smirked. "Maybe Gisborne came back and carried her away, wouldn't put it past that poor besotted fool, traitor that he is."

Robin frowned at this, but put this away as a desperate attempt of the sheriff to annoy him further.

"Maybe we could go upstairs now, Locksley, and talk about the details of our _arrangement_." Looking at the rope that was hanging from the gallows and the guards that were standing around, waiting for something to happen, he added, "In a more _relaxed _atmosphere." He grimaced again.

Robin shrugged. Vaysey had had him basically at his mercy before; it didn't really matter where the man planned to drive a knife into his back. Robin would take care, but at the same time nothing spoke against going to listen what the man had to say, for now at the least. He wanted to find Marian, and he also wished to see Djaq and the rest of the gang, but he doubted his desire to run back to the camp at the moment. He would have to talk the sheriff out of a horse; or steal one for that matter.

Once they had gone upstairs, Robin trying as well as he could to hide the weakness he was feeling, though he figured that the sheriff had long noticed. Vaysey waved him into his personal chamber. He turned to a servant who had been waiting then.

"Bring us a few goodies from the kitchen, will you? Do not forget the wine, of course." Vaysey watched Robin out of the corner of his eyes, still having an odd expression on his face. Robin did not listen to his words though, for his attention had been drawn to something entirely different.

Hanging on the wall next to the sheriff's bed was a curved sword, one he recognised very well. It was a trophy, that much was clear.

Robin turned to Vaysey with lifted eyebrows.

"A little cherry on top the Sheriff of York gave me," the man explained with what seemed to be an amused smile. The other still stared at him, as Vaysey waved his hand. "Just sit down somewhere, Locksley, will you? Before you fall over and hurt yourself." Robin didn't move and after another moment the sheriff pretended to just come to understand. "We will take it down, naturally," he nodded towards Robin's sword. "Guard! Take the sword down and give it to Locksley."

The guards might have considered this a dangerous decision, but then they didn't know as well as the sheriff did that Robin was resolved on not killing the man. Not that he could not have changed his mind on this, but Robin didn't even bother considering all the hurdles he would have to overcome on his way out, if he were to do so.

The guard took the sword from the wall and presented it to Robin. It was slightly awkward as Robin had to reach around and take the weapon with his left hand as opposed to his right, the one that it had been handed to. He didn't dare using the limb at all at the moment, unwilling to cause any more pain in it.

It felt good to have the sword back and Robin took care to fasten it to his belt, while the sheriff seated himself with a bored expression, starting to pick from the food that had been brought in in the meantime.

Robin then took a seat as well, though he wished nothing more than to be back at the outlaws' camp, able to finally rest and sleep properly.

"Help yourself," the sheriff offered then, chewing.

Robin didn't hesitate long. While his desire for sleep was greater than that for food, he had been starved for days, and seeing the food laid out on the table did nothing to subdue his appetite. It was probably a good thing in regards to his well-being. He might have wondered, if the sheriff would consider anything like poisoning the food, seeing Robin die as he put too much trust in the man, but Robin knew that Vaysey would want to see him suffer. He wouldn't give him such a pleasant death that started out with this meat that was, as Robin admitted to himself, tasting delicious.

With a smile he thought of Much who would love to see such a rich meal. Then he frowned, remembering the reason he was actually there.

"Let us talk about the deal then," he suggested, nodding to the other man. "And I want a horse."

"Are you a little girl, Locksley?" the sheriff replied annoyed. On Robin's expression he added, "You will get your horse, but let me summarise the important points now: I will have you pardoned, publicly, you will get your little friends to bring back the silver they took from me."

Robin still didn't like that part, knowing that the gang would react incredulous on any such suggestion.

"You go back to Locksley, can have a dance in the spring with all your peasant friends, but make sure that the taxes come in, so we can help bring dear King Richard home."

Robin nodded to this, although he was certain that the sheriff was not telling him the whole truth.

"My men?" he prompted then.

"Will be pardoned, too," the sheriff assured him. "But you make sure they don't steal back my treasure in their free time, or any other that comes through to Nottingham for that matter."

Robin nodded once. There was the question as to how they were to help the peasants, if they had no money stolen from the sheriff, but at the end of the day it was the people's taxes they would be stealing, those that were supposed to bring the king home now. Or those aiding the sheriff.

"Do you want the traitor in your gang pardoned, too?" the sheriff asked suddenly, and there was glee in his expression.

Robin leaned forward, frowning deeply. "We can make this deal, or not."

"I can hang you and your leper, or not," the sheriff returned.

Robin tried to quench the anger, reminding himself that Vaysey was only provoking him. He would never take the man's word in any matter such as that; he himself would find out if there was a traitor, he would not ask Vaysey about it, or the man would use any opportunity to destroy Robin's trust in his men.

"What about Gisborne?" he asked, showing that he had no intention to talk about the sheriff's previous query.

Vaysey grimaced. "We'll have to make sure he doesn't get what he wants, or all of this," the sheriff waved towards the town of Nottingham, visible from the window, "will go up in flames."

Robin didn't answer. He didn't even know where Gisborne was, only that he was not at Locksley anymore. Remembering what Marian had told him, he could only assume that the man had left after Vaysey had found out that he had helped Marian. If that really was the case, for Robin did not trust that Gisborne would risk his position with the sheriff this way.

Unless he had already other plans in any way. Still, it was only the sheriff's word that the man wanted to kill him. But then Vaysey had to be really afraid, if he was ready to make these kind of deals. Not that Robin fully trusted in anything that had been said in the room. He had to see what was to come from it, take it step for step. Promising the sheriff to give the silver back had not yet cost him a penny, but had gotten him out of the dungeons, and Marian hopefully away from the gallows, for now.

"Now, shall we make our proclamation?" the sheriff asked, still sounding somewhat irritated by the idea.

**TBC **


	16. Proclamation

**A/N: Thanks to Emmithar for the beta! :)**

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**Chapter 16: Proclamation**

"In the name of the Sheriff of Nottingham, which is myself, installed by the sovereignty of Richard, King of England, blah-di-blah-di-da, the following man, Robin of Locksley, also known as Robin Hood, is pardoned from his crimes. He is also reinstated to his title of Lord of Locksley and Earl of Huntingdon. Also pardoned are all and any of the men following him."

Much froze, thinking about what had just been said, before he turned to Will, both of them hiding behind a stack of wood. "Did you hear what he said?"

Will nodded.

"This is a good thing, right? He said he's pardoning Robin."

"I don't trust the sheriff," Will returned grimly, and Much had admit that the other had a point. It would never be wise to trust the man.

"Where is Robin? He will know about this, I'm sure."

They had sneaked back into Nottingham in the morning, after they had stored the treasure from their latest ambush, and had since then been hiding in the town, hoping for an opportunity to get into the castle. Much had been agitated, only consoled by the fact that none of the town's folk had said anything about a recent hanging.

They still didn't know how they were to free Robin, but maybe this wouldn't even be necessary.

Djaq and John came up behind them.

"Did you hear what he said?" Much asked them as well and Djaq nodded once.

"We do not trust the sheriff," John made it clear.

Allan came sneaking up to them as well. "What's Robin up to now?"

"Why? Do you know where he is?" Much questioned quickly.

Allan motioned over to the castle yard. There Robin was, ready to mount a horse. None of the guards who were standing around seemed intent in stopping him, a curious sight indeed, Much thought. Robin heaved himself up to the animal, closing his eyes for a moment, as he was sitting, which caused Much to frown in wonderment.

"He does not look well," Djaq spoke what he had already felt, too.

"He is ill," he stated worriedly, not taking his eyes of his former master.

"Maybe the sheriff put something in his drink, drugged him, messed up his mind," Allan suggested, circling his finger next to his ear as to indicate what he suspected to be Robin's state of mind. "Would explain all of this," he waved towards the sheriff, who was still standing there, beaming now.

"This doesn't even make sense," Will shook his head.

As they were watching, Robin rode slowly out of the castle yard and through the streets of Nottingham. The outlaws followed him stealthily, still not sure what to make of the situation. As Robin reached the town's gate the guards there watched him warily, but let him pass.

"Where is he going?" Much whispered behind Will, the gang once again concealed as well as they could.

Will frowned. "Back to camp, I think."

Much moved ahead, his mind set on following Robin. They still had to get out of the town again, but in his eyes this should be easier than getting inside. As Robin rode over the bridge, they lost sight of him, and Much hurried to get to the gate as well, the others following him.

"Hey," someone called from behind then, and Much turned his head. "Stop," a guard said, pointing at Will.

Will was about to break into a run, but Much stepped forward.

"We are Robin Hood's men," he declared. "And you heard what the sheriff said. We are free to go."

The guard was frozen to the spot for a moment and others joined in their attention to the scene. Then the man nodded, and the former outlaws moved to the town's gate carefully.

"I like how that's going," Allan smiled, as they walked out of the town unhindered.

"I still don't understand this," Will said. "The sheriff wouldn't just pardon us like that. Robin has to have offered him something in return."

Much looked ahead into the distance, but he already wasn't able to see Robin anymore. Of course, on horseback the man was much faster than them. At least they knew he was free, no matter that they did not know what was behind all of this.

As they came up to the camp later, all was quiet. Much soon spotted Robin though, lying in his bed, sleeping. Much could imagine that the man had to be more than exhausted after being caught in York, brought to Nottingham, spending days in the dungeons and who knew what else. The most mysterious were certainly the dealings with the sheriff, but in Much's view those were hardly important at the moment. He was just glad that Robin was back, and in one piece as far as he could tell.

Contentedly, he set down his things, including Robin's bow that he had been carrying. The man would be happy to have it back. He would probably be hungry when he woke up, so Much moved to check the storages that camp provided. There was little there, he remembered as he found them nearly empty. At least the others seemed to have brought some of the peas and grains they had taken from York to the camp. It would have been foolish to hand all of it out to the villages; the outlaws needed to eat as well after all.

Much set up a pot, seeing Djaq move over the Robin as he did so.

"He is hurt," she said quietly, looking at the man.

"Hurt?" Much questioned alarmed. They had all seen that Robin looked ill, but he had hoped that rest and food would help there. Guilt and alarm was now coming up in him that he had not noticed that his friend was injured, had not even looked closely.

"His hand," Djaq explained. "It's bandaged." She frowned. "He used some cloth. It does not look clean."

"You cannot wake him," Much declared, leaving the food behind and coming over to her.

Djaq shook her head. "He is already running a fever. Look at him."

Much stopped. He could see the colour of his cheeks, could see the slight shivers that were coming over him despite the blanket that he had drawn over himself and the warmer spring air that was around them now.

Djaq carefully took Robin's hand, pulling and unwrapping the bandage then. Much didn't like what he saw. He didn't have the knowledge that Djaq had, but he had the experience from five years on the battlefield. These wounds didn't look good.

Much's gaze went from Robin's hand to his face, and he saw that the man had awoken, watching them bleary-eyed for a moment, before pulling his hand back from where Djaq had been holding it.

"Robin," Much nodded to him; he was still worried, but it was good to see the man.

"I have to clean the wounds," Djaq said earnestly, reaching again for Robin's hand, but he held it close to himself. He sat up properly and Much moved away to give him more space.

"I've seen it in the Holy Lands," Robin started then. "Wounds that became infected. Limbs that had to be taken to spare a man's life." He looked down at his hand and Much could once again see the red of the skin around the injuries.

"We do not have to worry about that just now," Djaq returned.

Robin nodded quietly.

"What happened?" Much asked him, pointing at the hand.

Djaq turned to him meanwhile. "Do we have some wine left? For the pain and so I can clean the injury?"

Much nodded eagerly. "Of course." He turned away to get what she required.

"Yeah, what happened?" Allan asked as well. "We heard that proclamation the sheriff made, what's that all about?"

Much filled two cups of wine. One he handed to Robin, one to Djaq.

"It's hard to explain," Robin started, as he nipped at his cup. Djaq had set down the second one, now rummaging in her bag to find what she needed for her work.

"Try us," Allan shrugged, and John nodded in agreement, as he and Will came up to settle around them as well.

"The sheriff wanted a deal," Robin explained, frowning, taking another gulp of the wine.

"We do not make deals with the sheriff," John insisted.

"John's right. We don't," Will agreed, but Robin's gaze went up to him and he fell silent.

"He had Marian, has Marian, I don't know," he shook his head. "He threatened to hang her. I could not let that happen."

Will nodded at this, while Djaq sat down next to Robin, taking his hand in hers.

"Marian was caught?" Much intervened. They had not seen her since they had first tried to get into Nottingham to save Robin, but he had hoped that there had been another reason for her disappearance.

Robin nodded. "I saw her in the dungeons. We talked." Looking down at his injured limb, he added, "She bandaged it." He fell silent for a few moments, as he gritted his teeth, as Djaq was working on the wounds. "I don't know where she is now," he went on then. "Vaysey claims she got away."

Will shook his head. "We haven't seen her."

"The deal?" Allan prompted and Robin's gaze went to him. Much could see a yet deeper frown on his friend's face as he looked at the other man, and Much remembered what Robin had told him in York.

"He had us all pardoned," Robin went on. "We have to give back the silver you took the other day. No more ambushes. I go back to Locksley."

"What?" John's exclamation resounded in the camp, and Robin winced as Djaq continued cleaning his wounds, focusing only on this task.

Will was shaking his head silently in disbelief.

To Much, the deal sounded good, if one could even trust the sheriff's word that was, but he could see that the others did not like the idea at all.

Robin cried out, as Djaq touched his wounds again. She muttered a quiet apology as she did so.

"I can understand that you don't like this," he admitted then. "I would never have accepted anything like this, if it wasn't for Marian." He paused. "But now I think we need to do this. For the king."

"What does the king have to do with this?" Will questioned.

"The king is still being held hostage. A ransom has to be paid. If we take the prince's treasure, he cannot do so," Robin explained earnestly, as Djaq wrapped his hand in a fresh bandage.

"You don't actually believe the sheriff's or Prince John's money is going to the king?" Allan grimaced.

"Yes," Much agreed. "Why would the sheriff care for the king? He will be out when the king returns."

Robin nodded. "I know. I do not trust the sheriff, but for now, I think we should do this. You heard the sheriff: he pardoned us. Now, he does whatever he wants and tomorrow we could be back where we were before, but we have to try." He looked at them seriously. "We cannot stay here in the forest forever. We cannot help the people enough this way. We cannot bring the king home this way."

"So what are we going to do?" Much nodded to him again.

"Vaysey fulfilled the first part of our agreement by pardoning us and letting me go. We'll go to Locksley. Tomorrow we'll give him the silver. We will try to get information as to where it's going, making sure it's really going to pay for the king's ransom." He looked at the rag Djaq had unwrapped from his hand earlier. "And I have to find Marian."

"I don't like this," Will still declared. John had moved over to his cot, putting his staff away with a thud. Much could feel his disapproval.

"You don't have to come to Locksley," Robin nodded. "I do not trust the sheriff myself. If you prefer to stay here, I will not make you come. But Gisborne is not at Locksley anymore and I have to go and see what has become of the people there."

"I will come," Much offered. Robin had to know that he would not let him go alone. "But shouldn't you rest and get better before we go?" He could see that Robin was not doing better than earlier, seemed yet more heated even than before.

Robin looked at Djaq, and Much thought there was more in his gaze than what the current topic was about. Much could see Robin's worry. He could often sense Robin's feelings, also when the man was hiding them from him, or himself even.

"I do not know, Robin. But you need to rest it."

The man nodded.

"We will go to Locksley later."

* * *

Marian was in hiding.

She hadn't wanted to go, hadn't wanted to leave Robin behind. But she couldn't have the sheriff toying with her any longer either. He had once brought her out to the gallows, letting her believe she was going to die, leaving Robin behind down there to succumb to the fever. Later she had seen he was alive, still, when she had again been taken from the place she had been locked up in. The sheriff was toying with Robin as well, using her, though she did not know what it was that he wanted Robin to force to.

She had seen the outlaw, had seen that he was ill. She wouldn't allow the sheriff to taunt him any longer, with her as the pawn.

When the opportunity had presented itself when she was led away from Robin's cell again, she had struggled and broken free from the guards, rushing out of that dreary place only with the regret that the archer was still down there, promising silently that she would return, with or without his men.

She had used her knowledge of the castle, had sneaked out into the town, not encountering any trouble on the way. Now she was there, trying to rest, preparing herself to go back. Then she saw them, the outlaws sneaking through the town and she smiled at this, hope kindling in her that they would together manage to free Robin. There was still a queasy feeling in her stomach as to his condition; but getting him out of the dungeons would raise her hope in that regard as well, no matter that she believed him going to the forest could not be a good thing in these circumstances. They had nowhere else to go.

Pulling the cloak she had snatched from a laundry line deep into her face, she wandered carefully over to where she saw Much and Will waiting.

Then she stopped as she saw the sheriff appearing up at the castle. It was difficult to interpret his expression. He seemed to be strained and gleeful at the same time. Her heart beat faster as she observed him getting ready to speak, as she had a fearful expectation of what he wanted to announce.

When he made his proclamation then, she did not believe her ears at first. It did not make sense.

She could then see the outlaws discussing among themselves, and few moments later Robin appeared in the courtyard, ready to mount a horse, and decidedly not escaping, but riding away unhindered by any of the guards. He still looked ill, but she was glad that he seemed to hold up well enough to leave.

Marian still could not believe it. The sheriff had pardoned Robin and his men; the question was only as to why. The last she had seen of the situation had been Vaysey trying to force Robin to do something, to agree to something... but the sheriff would hardly have to force Robin to accept a pardon... it was not something that needed to be accepted, the idea was absurd even.

She frowned, realising that she could imagine it. Robin despised the sheriff, would not want to do his biding, might not even want to be pardoned by him and go back to Locksley. Robin was stubborn as this, she knew.

Although she could imagine this, it still made no sense for the sheriff to make Robin accept it, if Vaysey did not gain something as well. So this was what had to be behind the matter, and the sheriff's ambiguously good mood. Robin had promised him something. And Marian guessed that he had only agreed because the sheriff had threatened her.

She watched the gang follow Robin as he rode out of Nottingham. She pursued them herself, still careful as to what would happen. There was a short hold-up at the town's gate, as a guard recognised Will, but Much stepped forward and reminded the men of the sheriff's proclamation. Feeling an absurd amusement as she watched the former outlaws leave the town unharmed, she moved along to the gate as well. She didn't know if Robin was going back to the camp, or was riding out to Locksley directly, but the gang would follow him, and so would she.

A guard stepped forward as she neared the town's gate, and she cursed her recent inability to avoid detection.

"Halt!"

She stopped and two more guards came to support the first.

"This is the one the sheriff is looking for," one of them informed him.

"The sheriff had Robin of Locksley and all of his men pardoned," Marian pointed out quickly. "So I am free to go." She had just seen the gang do the same, there was no question about it.

The man looked down at her. "You're not a man. And you're not one of Locksley's either, as far as we know." He motioned to the other guards. "Take her."

As one of the men came to get a hold of her, Marian ducked, evading him, then skirted sideways around the others, and broke into a run.

She didn't look back as she ran, praying with every step she took that they would not shoot her to stop her, but then she had seen no archers at the gate. She only allowed herself to slow down, as she had passed the gate and was able to blend into the people that were camping outside of the town. She received stares from them, as she walked among them, stopping then, as she sat down on the remains of an old tree trunk, trying to catch her breath.

Despite the people around her, she felt helplessly alone, as she knew the gang of former outlaws to be gone by now. She couldn't show her face in the town again, or in the villages even, or she would only end up in the sheriff's dungeons again. With a wave of despair that she tried to shove out of her mind quickly, she wondered if there would even be anyone still, who would come for her then. The feeling was irrational, she told herself. Robin and the gang were there, free even, if the sheriff held true to his word. Maybe Guy was somewhere near as well, though she had not seen him at the castle. She wasn't alone.

She watched a few children play a game with stones for a few minutes, as she heard the rumours going around in the paupers' camp. There was talk, talk of Robin Hood having been pardoned. Right after followed the question if it meant that he was working for the sheriff now, would forget all about the people in and outside of Nottingham.

Marian picked herself up, pulling the cloak around her form again, as she set off for what she knew would be a long walk, one where she would have to take care to not be detected again.

**TBC**


	17. Truth

**A/N: Happy Birthday and thank you for the beta to Emmithar! :D**

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Chapter 17: Truth **

When Robin next woke, he realised that more time had passed than he had planned. He was getting nervous about going to Locksley now. It was a strange feeling to imagine returning home, now, after all that had taken place. Then there was the other reason that he felt the need to show the sheriff that he intended to honour their agreement, no matter how sour it felt in his mouth to admit to it. If the man still had Marian in his hands, as Robin feared, he had to play along.

Then there were the reasons for it that Robin had failed to explain to the gang so far. He had tried, but had seen that they did not understand the importance the deal might have for the king. Robin had used to imagine that the king would return home, that he would be pardoned then, would return to Locksley, marry Marian...he shook his head. He had not imagined that Vaysey would offer him such a deal, even more so as the king was kept from coming back to England being held captive in a foreign land.

Taking care not to use his injured and still painfully throbbing hand, he moved from his cot, having to steady himself as he did soso. The fresh leaves of the trees were dancing above him, the sunlight streaming in through the cracks of the canopy in a confusing pattern and Robin felt a bitter taste in his mouth that he wanted nothing more than to wash away with water. So he stepped forward shakily, going for his flask.

Then it was handed to him, as John stepped silently towards him. Robin nodded gratefully and took large gulps of water, failing to wash away the taste in his mouth, but at least it wet his throat.

"You need rest," John said, but Robin shook his head.

"Where are the others?" He looked around in the nearly empty camp. "I have to go to Locksley."

"Robin," John was shaking his head as well. "Will and Allan have gone hunting. Much is here, somewhere, as is Djaq."

Robin nodded, frustrated, sitting down as he worried he might fall over just where he was. He wasn't getting better. He looked down at his right hand, the flask still held in the other. He clenched his fists, feeling the sharp paid that added to the duller, constant one as he did so.

"The jailer wanted to cut off fingers," he said then, not quite certain why he was telling John this.

The big man looked down at him silently.

"He didn't manage it," Robin went on. "But now Djaq's going to have to take the whole hand. I've seen it happen at war. The wound becomes infected. Later the limb turns black. If it is not cut off, you die." He clenched his fist again, taking care to feel the pain it caused. His head was now hurting, too, just as it had down in the sheriff's dungeons when the man had made his ridiculous proposal.

"Robin," John said again, shaking his head once.

"What am I when I can't draw a bow, John?"

The other man sat down next to him. "We need you alive and with a clear head, Robin." Robin looked ahead to the trees outside the camp. "Let Djaq take care of it. She knows what she is doing." Robin nodded, wondering if he was grateful or not for the fact that John had not pretended that all would be well, even if he were to lose the hand.

"I have to go to Locksley," Robin started again then.

John didn't argue about it, but this could just as well have been because Will and Allan came back to the camp at this point, followed by Djaq and Much. The first two were carrying their prey. They'd gone hunting, poaching, as if nothing had changed.

"Will you come with me to Locksley?" Robin asked them.

The men stopped, exchanging glances.

Will finally spoke. "We follow you, Robin, but we don't trust the sheriff."

Robin nodded once at this. He had expected them to react this way. He would have preferred for them all to go to Locksley, no matter that for some of them it would be yet stranger than for him. But then, this arrangement had advantages, too.

"Maybe it is better for you to stay in the forest for now. You are right; we cannot trust Vaysey." It might be safer for them all, if his men stayed here for now, hidden from the sheriff's men. He would deal with them, if need would arise, but he did not want his men to risk their necks in a potential trap of the sheriff's. The man had let him go, so Robin doubted that he wanted him dead for the moment, unless he only planned to lure the gang out. This Robin had to hinder, if it was the sheriff's plan.

"What about the silver?" Djaq asked. "You said we have to give it back."

Robin nodded. He knew the others were still against it. "I will go to Locksley, see if the sheriff is honouring our agreement so far. And I have to find Marian." He looked at John. "Where did you take the silver?"

John crossed his arms. "It's at the same place as the food that we still have to hand out."

Robin took this in, not even having known that the gang had brought more food they could distribute. "When Much and I go to Locksley, we can take some of the food. You can take the rest to the other villages." He turned to Much. "You still want to come?"

"Yes, of course," Much said plainly. "There is something I forgot earlier." He reached around to his bunk, bringing up Robin's bow then. "I brought this from York. I thought you would like to have it back."

Robin reached out with his left hand. "Thanks." He put the bow aside quickly, unwilling to think now about whether he would even be able to use it again. As he got ready to leave the camp though, he took it up again, somewhat arduously fitting it on his back along with his quiver. He knew the weapon was useless for now, but it felt wrong to not take it.

Much and he left the camp at the same time as the rest of the gang who were heading to distribute the rest of the food they had brought from York. He was still shivering as they made their way through the underbrush, but he focused on breathing evenly. The fever would pass, he was sure of it.

It felt farther to Locksley than it usually did. Maybe it was because he was not feeling well, or because of the anticipation of what awaited him there. They took care not to be seen when they slipped into the village. It was odd maybe, considering he intended to stay, if things worked out as planned.

"What are we going to do? Do you plan to just knock at the front door?" Much wondered, as they sneaked around a corner of the house.

"We have to be careful," Robin returned. "I don't know where Gisborne is. He could still be here, no matter that the sheriff told me otherwise."

"So you think it's a trap?" Much came to a stop behind him.

"No, not like that," Robin gave a short shake of his head. "It wouldn't make sense to let me go just to catch me again. And we haven't given him the silver yet." Thinking of that, it was certainly not a good idea to hand the treasure over, Robin could only agree with the gang on that matter, but he still knew it had to be done. For the king. And for Marian.

"So if Gisborne's still here, you think he will just hand over Locksley like he did when we came from the Holy Lands?"

Robin smiled. "Of course not."

He spied around the corner that would lead them to the front door, the same place he had met Thornton at in the winter, that day when he had schlepped through the snow.

Making a decision, Robin moved to the door, and opened it carefully, leaving his sword at his side and the useless bow on his back.

The hall was empty, emptier even than he last seen it, less furniture there than he remembered. It was not his first concern though, Gisborne was, and any of his men.

As Robin moved through the room, with Much on his heels, a man entered from the other side, followed by two more.

Robin froze, looking at Thornton, waiting for a reaction from him or any of the two men to determine if it was wise to speak in friendly tones.

"Master Robin," Thornton nodded towards him, a smile on his face, and Robin knew it was safe, although he did not recognise the other men. "The sheriff sent message that you would come." The man was smiling still, though there was also wonder in his tone, and Robin did not have to ask why.

"Can I talk to you alone?" he asked with a glance at the other two men.

Thornton glanced at the men briefly as well. "Of course."

"Much, you come, too," Robin whispered quickly, as Thornton opened the door to an adjoining room. They followed him, leaving the other two men behind who had given him a short polite nod, before he walked away.

"What happened here?" he wanted to know, turning to Thornton as soon as Much had closed the door behind them. "And who are these men? I don't recognize them. Gisborne never had them around."

Thornton gave a quiet nod first, before he started slowly, "Sir Edward and Lady Marian appeared here one night. They were on the run from the sheriff and Sir Guy was offering them shelter."

"He did what?" Much spoke up in surprise, but Robin nodded.

"Marian told me. I saw her in Nottingham." He didn't mention the circumstances under that he had seen her, in the dungeons.

"You know Sir Edward is dead then?" Thornton questioned.

Robin nodded again. "What happened after Marian left here? What did Gisborne do?"

"He left as well, very soon after. He has not returned, but sheriff's men arrived here to search the house not long after he had left." The man showed his annoyance. "They destroyed a few of your as well as Sir Guy's belongings. We cleaned up as best we could."

Robin frowned.

"Those men out there are sheriff's men, too," Thornton went on. "They brought the message of your pardon and are here, so they say, to assist you with your business."

Robin didn't like this one bit. It seemed the sheriff was keen on fulfilling his side of the deal for now, but wanted to keep Robin under scrutiny at the same time.

"Have you seen or heard of Marian since she left?"

Thornton shook his head, not asking the obvious question as to why Robin did not know, seeing that he had been talking to her in Nottingham as he had claimed earlier. "Letters arrived for her, but I have not seen her." The man then looked at Robin closely, also observing the other's hand. "What happened?"

Robin looked at it. It was still painful, though not so bad that he was not able to shove it to the back of his mind when he was distracted by other things. He grimaced, moving his hand instinctively to his chest as if that would somehow protect it. "An incident," he stuttered a moment later. "It is nothing."

"Nothing?" Much cried, looking at him. "Don't tell me that it's nothing, the jailer nearly cut your fingers off."

Robin frowned, avoiding the gaze of either man. It was uncomfortable to talk about it, and he certainly didn't want to do so in front of his servant, no matter that he trusted Thornton. He wasn't even really willing to talk to Much about it. It was odd maybe, as he had done so with Little John earlier, but somehow he didn't feel like he wanted to share it with Much, maybe afraid of the man's open words.

"Maybe you could introduce me to these men out there," he suggested with a hint of sarcasm, knowing he would have to keep them around for now, not willing to risk opposing the sheriff in this deal as long as he did not know if the man still held Marian in his grasp.

He would get this over with, would then maybe be able to rest. He could feel the weakness coming up in him again, the tiredness that threatened to overcome him any moment these days.

* * *

Allan watched as Will handed out the last of the sacks of grain they had brought from York a few days ago. It hadn't been the only thing they had managed to do in York. He, and Much in a way, had found out where Robin had been taken, enabling them to come back to Nottingham and rescue him. Well, if Allan was honest it was also in York where Robin had been captured in the first place and the gang had not exactly managed to free him either. No, Robin had managed to make an odd deal with the sheriff.

Allan wondered if he should even still have that bad feeling in the back of his mind about his own agreement with Gisborne. He hadn't harmed anyone; and it was over now.

Still, Marian had almost been on to him, Allan had felt it when the gang had encountered her at the camp. She knew something, knew maybe that he had been giving information to Gisborne. Who knew really what Gisborne was telling her, what she coaxed out of him. But then she was not completely certain, or else she would have told the others, he guessed. Or maybe she wanted to wait with it till they had saved Robin. Or tell it to Robin himself for that matter.

Yet they didn't even know where Marian was now. Robin didn't seem to know either.

Allan observed the expression of the others, as they said their goodbyes to the villagers they had handed the food to. None of them were watching him suspiciously. Robin hadn't hinted anything about it either. Of course, the man had been feeling off and was certainly distracted. Maybe the man simply didn't care about the matter anymore, now that he had Locksley back. The deal still sounded fishy to Allan. He wondered as well why they had to remain in the forest if Robin and Much were to go to Locksley. Robin had said something about not trusting Vaysey, but then he seemed to not trust the gang either. After all he rather wanted them back in the forest than in his own house where they would be able to defend him against the sheriff should that deal not work out.

It was odd actually that Robin would certainly be angry, more than angry, if he ever learned of Allan's deal with Gisborne, but that he himself was ready to jump in any deal with the sheriff, if it meant he got his lands back.

They were walking into the forest, as Allan asked, "What now? Do we just go back to camp?"

John nodded.

"So we just wait until Robin decides to remember there are more than just he and Much?" He looked from Will to Djaq. "The sheriff had us pardoned too. We can go wherever we want, no matter what Robin says."

Will looked at him with a deep frown.

"Not all of us have another place to go to," Djaq pointed out.

"Well yeah," Allan agreed. "Always knew it would end like this. Robin gets his land back, has a home, gets the girl-"

"Robin doesn't even know where Marian is," Will intervened, Djaq glancing at him as if she wanted to say something.

"That's what he says," Allan murmured, knowing it wouldn't come over well.

"You don't trust Robin?" Will flared up, taking a step towards Allan. "Maybe we shouldn't trust you."

"Will," Djaq emphasized, and John gave him a look. Allan didn't like John's expression as he looked at him then.

Allan's next words were stuck in his throat, knowing that Will was right. They shouldn't trust him, shouldn't have trusted him in the past. He felt that they could do so now, he knew now that it had been a mistake to sell them out to Gisborne, but he also knew that Robin wouldn't look past this so easily, if he knew.

"We can go to Locksley," Djaq said. "I want to look after Robin's injury. Come, too. I think it will be safe."

Allan frowned, wondering about her willingness to go against Robin's order. But then the man had been worried about his hand, so he surely would not mind Djaq coming. He shook his head once. Maybe his friends would forgive more easily than Robin probably would.

"I think there is something Allan wants to tell us," Will said in a flat tone.

"Will," Djaq cautioned him again, shaking her head in a way that seemed to say that it was not the right time.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Allan murmured, but he guessed that Will was on to him. He didn't know why the man was demanding it now, but Allan's earlier words seemed to have angered him.

Will glanced at Djaq, but nodded then towards Allan. "Tell us. Or I'm going to." His tone indicated that he didn't expect to like what he was about to hear. This and Djaq's warning tone let Allan hesitate and he wondered if he shouldn't come up with some other story to tell instead of what Will expected to hear and wanted him to confess.

But John nodded as well. "Tell us."

Allan looked from the big man to Will, and decided that he had to confess or else Will would tell them, and he might never get the chance to show his friends the circumstances that had led to it all.

"Do you remember back when the sheriff's sister, what was her name, laid a trap in Nottingham and got Robin caught?"

Will nodded.

"I was at the inn that day, and there Gisborne got me."

"He caught you?" Will clarified.

"Got me down into the dungeons, tortured me..."

"Why didn't you tell us before?" John wanted to know. Allan looked at Djaq and he didn't see wonder in her expression, but pain instead.

"He said he'd let me go, if... I tell him something about Robin and all."

"You didn't tell him where the camp is, did you?" Will shot out, shaking his head then. "No, Gisborne would already have been here, long ago."

"No, I told him nothing, really. I mean, I had to tell him something at least, so he'd let me go, but nothing really, I swear."

John nodded. "You should have told Robin, should have told us."

Allan grimaced, remembering also the question why none of the outlaws had come for him back then. "I know. And I'm really sorry. But that's not everything."

"You betrayed us to Gisborne, didn't you? He offered you money and you sold us out," Will said suddenly, and Allan wondered if Will generally thought so bad of him that he had guessed the truth so easily, or if he had already learned about it before. Marian might have tipped him off. Allan had already guessed that she had known.

"I didn't tell him anything that would hurt any of you," Allan assured them quickly. "I told him that I wouldn't help him with that."

"So what about last fall, when we were all nearly hanged, when the sheriff exposed Robin in Nottingham?" How much did Gisborne pay you for that?" Will asked furiously.

"I didn't have anything to do with that, I swear. I mean, they got me, too, didn't they do? I was nearly hanged there as well."

John shook his head.

"You made your choice," Will stated, more evenly, but Allan could feel the contained anger.

Will looked at the Saracen. "Djaq?"

"Will, I do not think..."

"What?" Allan asked, uncertain, but worried as to what was going on in the others' minds.

"You can take this up with Robin, but I don't think you should come back to camp," Will voiced it.

"What? Please, I swear, it's over. I'm not working for him anymore."

"Who?" John asked coldly. "Gisborne or Robin?" He then turned and marched away silently. Will followed him a moment later.

"Hey!" Allan called after them. They didn't stop and he looked at Djaq. "What about you?"

"I will go to Locksley," she said simply. "Will you come with me?"

Allan stared at her, puzzled by this suggestion. What did she expect him to do? Would she tell Robin what he had just confessed? Surely she would and then he would have to deal with the man, too.

**TBC**


	18. Questions

**A/N: Thanks to Emmithar for the beta, and to all of you for your comments to this story and your patience! :)**

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**Chapter 18: Questions **

There had been many things that needed to be taken care of. It had felt very familiar to when he had first returned from the Holy Land and had come to Locksley. He never had had much time then to take care of the manor's business, as the confrontation with the sheriff and the impeding hanging of Will, Allan and the others had distracted him, before he had to run off into the forest himself.

Now he was still distracted, for once because he was still not feeling well, though better now than on the day before. Then there was Marian. Or rather, the question as to where she was.

Robin knew where all of his men were; either they had stayed in the forest, or had come with him, but he had not heard about Marian since he had left Nottingham behind. It was very well possible that the sheriff still held her, willing to have something in his hands that would force Robin to do what he desired. But if the sheriff really did have Marian, it made no sense for him to hide her. On the other hand, if he had killed her, it made sense for Vaysey to conceal that fact, as he would be able to guess that Robin would refuse to work with him any moment longer if such was the case.

The thought caused a lump in Robin's throat. Shaking his head briefly, he tried to focus again on the papers Thornton had presented him. They were estimations of taxes coming from Locksley, and the main reason Robin was looking at them was that he wanted to judge if the sheriff was really trying to come up with the ransom that was demanded for the king. Thornton had told him that even a new tax had been introduced for that purpose.

Robin scribbled down a note, the script awkward as he was trying to write with his left hand. Soon he shoved the papers side, unable to concentrate on them any longer.

It felt unreal, as he got up to walk around the room. He had lived here before, for many years, but still, now it felt like someone else's life that he had only heard about.

He figured that Much should be back soon. The man had offered to run an errand Robin himself had wanted to do, reminding himself that Much was no longer his servant, did not want him to be it any longer, especially now that they were free men again. Much had argued that Robin was too ill to run around outside, and so had fallen into old habits of taking care of Robin's business.

Robin knew he had to make a decision on the silver the gang had taken, but what Thornton had shown him had told him nothing. He still did not know if he was to believe the sheriff in this matter or not.

Then there was the question of Gisborne. Would the man return here? Was he lurking about, ready to try and kill the sheriff as Vaysey had claimed?

There were too many questions. As of now he did not know enough to make a decision. Free man or not, he was still in danger if he made the wrong choice. Any final decision would have to wait until he was certain what was going on.

The door was opened then, he could hear the sound of steps in the main hall. He decided to check if Much had returned and headed out into the hall.

Marian was standing there, looking around.

Then she saw who was coming over to her, taking her into his arms a moment later.

"I'm so glad to see you."

"Me too," she laughed.

"How did you get here? How did you get away from Nottingham?" Robin asked, still holding her.

"I fled," she said simply. "I wanted to go back for you, but then I heard that proclamation and saw you go free."

Robin grimaced.

"What is that about anyway?" she wondered.

"I'll tell you all about it," Robin promised. "Don't you need some rest? Some food? How long have you been up?" He grimaced again, smiling then, it still feeling odd to offer his home.

She shook her head. "I don't think I can stay long."

"What? Why?" he asked loudly, looking at her closely.

"The sheriff is still trying to find me. If his men find me here, he might decide to take you captive again." She shook her head.

"He is trying to find you? He pardoned me and all of my men."

"Well, I'm not one of your men, am I?" she mirrored his earlier expression. "He claims I killed his jailer when I tried to free my father." Robin could see the emotions this memory evoked in her, and couldn't believe she planned to leave again.

"I will talk to the sheriff," he insisted. "If he doesn't pardon you as well from whatever he claims you have done, this deal is over."

"I know Vaysey is despicable, but you'd throw away the chance for you and your men to be free again, to have Locksley back? Robin, the king might never come home."

"And what about you? Where will you go?" He shook his head. "The sheriff will listen to what I say, or his deal is over."

Remembering the whole way the agreement had come to be convinced Robin that Vaysey had to be desperate to even suggest such, so he also would have to agree to Robin's demand.

* * *

It had been with uncertain feelings that Djaq had left Allan behind. The man hadn't been ready to accompany her to Locksley and after some probing she had let him be and had made her way to the village alone.

She worried what was going to happen in the gang, now that the others knew about Allan's betrayal. Robin didn't know yet, she guessed, and he had many other matters on his mind, but she doubted that it would be a good idea to not tell him what had occurred.

The afternoon sun was setting in the west, when Djaq came into the village. She moved inconspicuously as usual, the cloak still over her head. She smiled when she saw Much making his way through the settlement. He seemed much more at home than she could ever feel here, and there was a hint of a smile on his face, too. He certainly was glad to be home, and she felt some sadness for him at the idea that this might not last long, as she neither trusted the sheriff's promises nor Robin's willingness to work together with the man for long.

She didn't want to call out to Much and draw any unwanted attention to herself, so she followed him quietly over to the manor, knowing she would find Robin there.

Then Much turned around and spotted her. He came to a stop and waited for her to come up to him.

"What is wrong?" he asked apprehensively, and Djaq wondered if it were just the unusual circumstances that made him, correctly, think something was wrong, or if he could read it in her face. She knew he could often read Robin like an open book, having spent so many years by the man's side, but she didn't think she was as easily readable for him.

"I want to look after Robin," she answered evasively, knowing this plan would agree with Much.

He nodded. "He is inside. I think." He frowned, as if wondering whether Robin was already up and about again.

Djaq doubted he would feel like it. She knew the effects his injuries could have, could imagine the fever that sapped his strength...

She nodded to Much and together they made their way to the house, Much leading the way around the building to enter through a side door.

They took a few steps into the building, Djaq following Much, before they suddenly found themselves opposite of who Djaq knew to be Thornton. The man looked at them with an expression that might be interpreted as concern, and she could imagine that he still had to get used to the present situation. After what she had heard of the man, he had been a loyal servant to Robin and was certainly glad to have his old master back.

"Master Robin is in the hall," the man said and Much nodded.

"So he's still here," Much told both Djaq and Thornton, as well as himself. "I thought he'd run off again," he grimaced.

"If you excuse me," Thornton said and turned to leave with a side glance at Djaq.

"Of course," Much frowned, and moved ahead, out into the hall.

Robin wasn't alone, and as far as Djaq could tell, he wasn't feeling all too bad, for he was busy arguing with Marian, who Djaq was somewhat surprised to see.

"You're hurt. You can't go to Nottingham like this," Marian said, while Robin was hefting his sword to his side.

"I'm going. And I will talk to the sheriff about this."

"Then I will come with you," Marian insisted.

"No, you stay here," Robin shook his head. "You said yourself that the sheriff's men were trying to catch you."

"I can't stay here," Marian returned, motioning to indicate the house. "If any of the sheriff's men see me here-"

"Where are they anyway?" Much interrupted the pair.

"Who?" Marian turned to him confused.

"Sheriff's men. There were two of them, spies, here, when we came," Much explained.

Djaq had just been glad and happy for Robin to see Marian, as they hadn't known where she was after they had lost contact with her during their first try to get into Nottingham a few days ago. Now Much's mentioning of spies caused a sting in her and she wondered how in all this mess it would be best to break Robin – and Much – the news about Allan.

"I sent them away," Robin said. "I don't need any of Vaysey's spies around here."

"Robin," Djaq intervened then. "Can we talk?"

After a moment he nodded. "You want to take a look at it?" he asked in a strained voice and with a glance at his right hand.

Djaq nodded.

Looking from her to Marian, Robin sighed in frustration, but motioned her to follow him. As Djaq did so, she could hear Much asking Marian, "What are you going to do?"

"I'll go to your camp. I left my things there."

Djaq wondered if Robin had heard the exchange as well, but closed the door behind her, before she got out the little bag she was carrying. Robin sat down and she carefully took his hand in hers, unwrapping the bandage she had made. She was met with reddened skin and she was certain that the injury was still hurting a good deal, but she also saw that the wound had closed and had not turned any of the shades Robin had feared.

"It's not bad," she said carefully, making sure to clean the wound attentively. She knew if nothing went wrong anymore, the injury would heal and Robin wouldn't be left with any remaining damage in his hand, but she also knew him well enough to guess that he might become reckless, careless, so she was careful with her words. "We have to keep it clean."

Robin nodded and she could see the concern in his expression.

"You have to be careful, but I think it will be alright," she was quick to add, telling him this despite the care she hoped he would take, unwilling to leave him in his worried state.

"There is something else, Robin."

He looked at her, frowning.

"About the others."

"What about them?"

"It is Allan."

Robin nodded grimly and she remembered his behaviour in York, the time before she, Will and John had left to take the acquired food back to Nottingham. He had been watching Allan in an odd manner then, and Allan had apparently been treading careful ground, maybe guessing that someone was suspecting him. Djaq had wondered, but she hadn't expected that it had been betrayal that had hung in the air between the two men.

As she looked at Robin, she was split for the next moment whether she actually wanted to say it, admit it, worried what he might do, but then she figured that the truth was already out and it only a matter of time before Robin would learn.

"Allan told us that he's been giving information to Gisborne," she said as calmly as she could.

Robin said nothing, but the grim expression remained. Then he nodded once. "I suspected it." He brought his left hand to his forehead, briefly rubbing it. "What is going on? Where are the others now?"

"Will and John have gone back to camp. They sent Allan away."

Robin listened to her explanation, but was silent.

"What are you going to do?"

Robin seemed to argue with himself, if about the question itself or about whether to tell her, she couldn't say.

"I have to go to Nottingham," he said then. "I don't think Allan can do any harm for now."

It wasn't quite the answer she wanted. Though she was curious what was going on with the sheriff and Robin, her main concern was with the gang right now. What would they do about Allan? Robin's focus seemed to be only if he could be any danger for now. Djaq wondered if that really was the man's only thought.

"Are you going to take the silver?"

"Some of it," Robin replied. "I can't take all of it, and I wouldn't want to. I first have to see what Vaysey is doing."

"Do you think he will give it to pay for the ransom for your king?"

He shrugged. "I can't tell." Shaking his head, he added, "I don't think he will. It doesn't make sense." He rubbed his forehead, and she could see the tiredness and the weariness in him. He needed rest to get well, she knew that, but just as well did she know that he would not stop now.

"Are you done here?" he nodded towards her work at his injury.

"Yes," she said. "But Robin... take care."

He smiled thinly. "Thanks for your help."

They went back to the others then and Djaq watched as Marian and Robin continued discussing with each other quietly for a little while longer, before Robin took her into his arms once more, Djaq still seeing the exhaustion in his posture, as he held her, saying quiet words the Saracen could not hear. He left then and Marian remained behind, though Djaq guessed from her expression that she still intended to do what she had told Much earlier.

* * *

All was quiet and peaceful. His surroundings were warm and soft, his breaths even. No sound disturbed the peace, save for a light, sweet chirping of his birds that drifted over to his ears from time to time.

Vaysey enjoyed this time of peace, careful not to let any stray thoughts interrupt it either. It was only when a sound reached his ears that was not one that belonged to the calm that he became aware that someone else was there in his chamber in these hours of the early morning.

He tensed, but remained as still as before for now, knowing he had to surprise the intruder if it was someone who wanted him harm. Gisborne, for example.

Listening intently, he moved his right arm inch by inch toward his waist where his dagger was. Still the sounds came through the room. The next moment Vaysey sat up, pulling out the dagger and holding it ready to strike, only he found himself opposite of Hood who was pointing his sword at him. Vaysey smiled. He would have expected the man to keep an arrow trained at him, if he intended to visit him here, but at the sight of the bandaged hand he remembered the injury the man had received and delighted in the thought that the archer might not be able to draw a bow anymore. It was certainly a matter one would be able to vex the man with.

"What is it, Hood?" he started. "Have you brought my silver?"

"The king's silver, if so," Robin replied testily, lowering his sword only when Vaysey put his dagger away.

"Of course, dear King Richard's silver," Vaysey smirked. The deal was sour, very sour, but the sheriff had decided than instead of having to be on guard against Gisborne all on his own, and having no way to regain the stolen treasure, it was better to find himself a new ally. And the more he thought about it, the more ingenius the idea seemed to him. He wanted Hood dead, yes, he very much did so. But more so did he want to stay in power. And if Hood was one of the men whose actions threatened this the most and could not be stopped, then it only made sense to get the outlaw on board. Now they would sink together, if they were to sink, Vaysey would make sure of that.

"I have part of it here," Robin went on then. "I will bring the rest, if we can come to an agreement on another matter."

"We already have our agreement, Hood... Locksley," the sheriff reminded him sourly. "Maybe we can sit down and have something to eat? I like so little to argue with anyone like you on an empty stomach."

Robin shrugged. "If you wish."

Vaysey called out to the guards that he knew to be standing outside of his door, no matter than none of them seemed to have noticed the intruder. They stepped into the chamber with expressions of alarm when they saw Locksley, who stood there with his arms crossed, waiting, but the sheriff merely ordered his breakfast and the men to leave again.

He sat down, but Hood remained standing there. Vaysey cared little either way. He was mildly curious as to what the man would demand. Less taxes? Bread for everyone? No more hangings? Whatever it was, Vaysey didn't intend to agree. He had given the man enough to make him willing to work with him. Locksley wanted to work for his king. The sheriff would leave him in the belief he was doing so. Of course, the man probably didn't quite trust Vaysey was actually doing so, but it wasn't hard to convince the other that he would do so under pressure.

"So what is it?" he wanted to know, after a servant had placed the first tray in front of him, enabling the sheriff to take a bite before dealing with Hood.

"Marian," Locksley replied simply, a glare on his face.

Vaysey sighed. Why was it always the leper? It had been the same with Gisborne.

"And I thought you had more than one love, Locksley. The poor peasants, the dear king... why always the leper?"

"Your guards wanted to arrest her yesterday," Robin went on.

"This is correct, my dear boy. She killed my jailer, so I intend to bring her to justice." Vaysey smiled. He so enjoyed doing this.

"She didn't kill your jailer. Gisborne did," Hood pointed out. "Besides, you said she would go free. It was part of our bargain."

Vaysey watched his own reflection in the spoon he was holding. "She did go free, didn't she? We couldn't find her anywhere in the dungeons."

"And your guards tried to catch her again."

Vaysey wondered for a moment where Marian actually was. From Hood's words he could deduce that the man knew, for he seemed to have talked to the leper. The sheriff actually cared little. As long as she was out of his sight, it didn't matter to him right now if she lived or died. But plaguing Robin was something he enjoyed.

"Look, Locksley. Even if she didn't kill that fool of a jailer, she broke out Daddy Dearest and went by that against the law."

"Your law. Edward never committed any crime."

"But Marian did." Vaysey smiled. He was actually delighting so much in this that the thought of catching the girl rose in his interest again.

"Our agreement was that any of my men are pardoned," Locksley shot back.

"She's one of your men? I didn't know that," Vaysey mocked.

"You will pardon her and make sure she is not bothered by your guards again, or this agreement is over." Hood had put his hands on the table that still held the sheriff's breakfast.

"If she is one of your men doesn't that mean she was in league with outlaws? That's a hanging offence, you know."

Hood only glared at him at this, and Vaysey knew that he had gone a little too far by now. While he had enjoyed the exchange, he didn't want Locksley to call off the agreement they had, though he didn't really think the man would do this, remembering the man's other loves, the poor and the king. In any way, maybe he could keep Hood busy enough with things like this, his concern about the leper, that he wouldn't have so much time to worry about the matters the sheriff really didn't want him to know.

"I will make a proclamation today," he agreed with a false smile.

"Now."

"I'm not even dressed yet."

Hood looked so tired and weary.

"Now."

"Oh, ladidadida. Relax."

This was one good cheese. The sheriff shook his head briefly with a smile, as he continued his breakfast.

**TBC**


	19. Arguments

**A/N: Thanks to_ Emmithar_ for the beta! :)**

**_railise_ and I recently started a new livejournal comm to host a Robin Hood Big Bang writing and art challenge. Read more about it at the LJ comm "rhbigbang".**

**Enough of the pimping, on to the chapter...  
**

* * *

**Chapter 19: Arguments**

Once she saw Robin riding away, Marian exited the house as well, knowing nobody would be trying to stop her no matter what Robin had argued earlier.

She didn't know what Djaq and Much would do, but she would go to the outlaws' camp. She could have followed Robin directly, but she figured it wouldn't help any of them if she got herself caught again so soon. Getting away from Locksley seemed to be the best course of action for now. She had nearly been caught here once; she didn't need to risk this a second time.

She breathed more calmly once she had reached the cover of the trees of Sherwood. It seemed ironic, considering the way she had felt when she had first fled to the woods a few days earlier.

She didn't hurry now. She wanted to go to Nottingham and see what was going on with Robin, but for now he was way ahead of her, and she would only be able to try and catch up with him later, when he would hopefully still be unharmed. As unharmed as he could be.

She was tired herself, which was another reason for her comparatively slow pace. She wondered if the rest of the gang would be at their camp, since they had not come to Locksley as Much and Djaq had. She wasn't quite sure if Robin had told them to stay put or if they had chosen to do so on their own.

She didn't plan to stay there, only intending to get the things she had left there before they went off to Nottingham to help Robin. She would need to find herself a place to stay soon, still thinking it a bad idea to stay at Locksley. If Robin and some of his men were at Locksley, there would be space for her at the camp, of course, but it felt wrong. They hadn't invited her to stay. Robin had asked her many times to join him in the forest, but Robin was at Locksley now.

She hadn't yet made it to camp, when she spotted another figure lurking about among the trees and bushes a little ahead. It wasn't difficult to recognize who it was, but it caused her confusion as to what he was doing.

Allan was moving back and forth, neither really going in one direction nor the other. She doubted he had forgotten where the camp lay, so his behaviour was mysterious to her.

She came closer to him, and Allan turned with a surprised expression on his face, apparently being startled by her arrival. She figured he had been in thought which might also explain erratic behaviour.

"I'm on my way to your camp," she said as an explanation, not planning to ask what he was doing.

"Robin's not there," Allan said after a moment of silence.

"I know. The others are there, aren't they?"

Allan shrugged. "Can't tell."

Marian grimaced slightly, figuring the outlaws, former outlaws that was, didn't really know what each of them was doing on any occasion.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

He hesitated for a moment, before he shook his head once.

She still didn't understand him, but decided to move on then. He stayed behind as she continued on her way, and it took her only a few more minutes to make it to the camp. As she entered, Will and John were on their feet immediately and they wore dark expressions on their faces.

If she hadn't known Robin and the others were safe for now, although Robin was already heading into potential trouble again, she would have been worried to see their demeanor.

"What is wrong?" she chose to ask, remembering Allan's behaviour, resolved now to find out what was going on.

Before Will even answered, a thought entered her mind, something she had told the very same man only a few days ago. That she thought Allan was a traitor. She hadn't accused Allan directly, but had told Will plainly that she thought there was a traitor and had hinted that she thought it to be Allan. The ideas seemed to come together now – Allan loitering about near the camp, John and Will's scowls.

"You were right," Will confirmed it. "There is a traitor in the gang." He glanced at John who looked around darkly.

"Was," the older men corrected.

Marian nodded once. She felt uncomfortable with the situation, no matter that her own suspicion had been confirmed. She wondered if Robin already knew.

"I'm just here to get my things," she explained then. "Much and Djaq are in Locksley."

"What about Robin?" Will frowned. "Have you seen him?"

Marian came to remember that Will and John didn't even known what had been going on with her, as they had last seen her on their way into Nottingham on a rescue mission. They hadn't asked about it so far, and she didn't mind that at all.

"He was at Locksley, but he's gone to Nottingham now."

"Again?" Will asked surprised.

She sighed. "Yes." She would have wished for him to stop, stop and rest just for a moment, but she knew just as well that he wouldn't. Sometimes she feared he would never rest until everything was exactly as he thought it should be, until the king was home, men like Vaysey and Gisborne gone, … She was tired herself, but she had to leave...

"You want to go after him," Will stated then matter-of-factly and she looked up at him surprised, having been in thoughts for a few moments.

The young man had seen through her and she had to smile at it. She could imagine that he didn't trust the sheriff's agreement, probably considered Robin's visit in Nottingham a potential trap, no matter that it didn't seem to make sense for Vaysey to first let Robin go, only to trap him again a day later.

"Yes." The Nightwatchman would.

Will didn't ask any more questions and she figured that he knew well enough that she would do what she wanted anyway. She wasn't dependent on any of them; even less so than Robin.

She had decided to conceal herself this time, unwilling to be seen as her real self again. The Nightwatchman was being hunted too, more so probably even than the Lady Marian was right now, but it still gave her a cover of anonymity. One that would hide her actions from being associated with her, an association she would never be able to get rid of if she was seen unconcealed. Even if the sheriff chose to forget about her having helped her father, allowed her to live untouched again, he wouldn't do so, if he knew what she had been doing as the Nightwatchman. And who could predict what she might have to do this coming night.

* * *

Marian left about as quickly as she had come and Will didn't quite know what to make of the knowledge that she considered it necessary to follow Robin to Nottingham. Will didn't trust the sheriff, quite the opposite.

It was an odd feeling, to be alone with John at the camp, when the others had gone to maybe not return here. Will guessed that Djaq would come back sooner or later. If Robin had really gone off to Nottingham, he was apparently not too bad off, so that he would not need Djaq to take care of him.

Allan, they didn't want to come back. Will hadn't discussed the matter with John, after the both of them had marched off, but the man's grim expression spoke clearly enough of his feelings. Will wasn't in a more cheerful mood either.

John didn't have much reason for such anyway, Will figured. Robin and Much had gone to Locksley, Djaq had followed, Allan was a traitor, and what he, Will, would do, was uncertain. John had about as few places to go as Djaq had, or Allan now.

It still felt unreal, the idea, that they had been pardoned all of a sudden, by the sheriff he despised even more so. He surely had hoped for it to happen one day, though he hadn't built on it. He had wanted to see the sheriff gone, still wanted so, but there had always been the possibility for him to join his family in Scarborough. The possibility was still there, even now that his father was dead. He had sent Luke back there and joining his brother was something he still wished to do, if it didn't mean abandoning Robin and the others, and their common cause of seeing justice in Nottinghamshire.

John had started to go about preparing some food, and Will felt it somewhat more keenly that Much wasn't around, though this was far from the only time when they had been forced to take care of dinner on their own, even in recent times.

The soft sounds on the leaves on the trees around them alerted Will to the fact that it had started raining, the water coming down in heavier drops as the minutes moved on.

Will picked up a small hammer and moved onto his bunk, remembering the place where a nail had not fitted right into the wood, leaving a small gap right above his head. He hadn't actually been rained upon; he knew the camp was well enough protected against that, but he didn't want to leave any even small weakness in the construction, if he was able to repair it.

It took only a few movements till it was done. Once he was down on the ground again, Will noticed that John had stopped preparing dinner and was instead standing there, listening intently, a frown on his face.

"What-?" Will was about to ask, figuring he hadn't heard anything thanks to his hammering, but John motioned him to be quiet.

Once he stopped still and listened, he could at first hear only the rain falling, but then he nocited something else - the unmistakable sounds of someone approaching the camp. Will knew no one would be able to find it unless they knew it was there, as they had proven often enough when being chased though the woods.

Whoever it was wasn't coming with confident strides though, but carefully, like they did not want to be detected. If they didn't know the camp was here, they would have no reason to try and be undetected though.

Will glanced back at John and mouthed his suspicion almost silently.

"Allan."

After a moment, the big man nodded, grabbing his staff. Will felt slightly uncomfortable at the sight, but then the earlier anger returned. Now the traitor was trying to sneak back into the camp.

Will tightened his grip around the hammer he had been holding and moved forward a bit, away from where he had been working. From his new vantage point, he had a better view on the area outside the camp, and now he could make out the man who was approaching them as quietly as he could, apparently trying to determine if anyone was at the camp, or if he could get in unnoticed.

Allan didn't get much further though, as John stepped out of the camp at this moment.

Will saw the other's gaze go up, meeting John's.

"Look-," he started, rain dropping from him. Will didn't hear more. If this was because Allan didn't get to say more or because he didn't hear it, while he was hurrying outside to where the other two men were, Will didn't know. Once he came up next to John, the man had already lifted his staff, causing Allan to retreat.

"Traitor," John spat the word out, moving forward to either drive Allan away or actually hit him.

Will wasn't sure what Allan had expected. He surely couldn't think everything was over and forgotten by now.

"Get out of here," he said, not raising his voice, as he tried to contain his anger.

Allan scrambled backwards, but tried to catch Will's gaze. Will remembered the friendship be had tried to have with the man, the trust he had put into him. Even though he had known that Allan wasn't always trustworthy, he had still believed they shared fate, companionship. But the man had sold them out.

Allan stayed where he had retreated to, watching them. "Look, what I did was wrong. That was long ago, I've given it all up. Honest, I have. Nothing's changed; it's just that now you know..."

"It changes everything," Will argued. "What happened back in Nottingham, over in York...and you want us to trust you?"

"I didn't have anything to do with that," Allan shook his head. "I wouldn't hurt any of you, honest, I wouldn't. Just let me come back, I swear, it's over now."

Will didn't have any inclination to even think about the degree of truth in Allan's words. He had lied to them so often... "Get out of here, and don't come back."

This moment John moved forward again, but he didn't reach the other man, as Djaq came running out of the woodwork, just as wet as Allan was and as the other two were quickly getting.

"John."

The big man stopped in his tracks, turning to look at her.

Will's gaze was on her as well.

Djaq waited until it was apparent they had all stopped in whatever they were about to do, and then moved forward. "We can talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about," Will shook his head. He didn't want to believe for a second she was trying to defend him.

John stood firm where he was. Will was comforted to know at least the man was backing him up on this.

"At least let him explain," Djaq offered.

"He did explain," John returned, reminding Will of the explanations Allan had given when he had first confessed the betrayal.

"Let us wait for Robin," Djaq suggested next.

"Is he coming?" Will asked her, frowning. Remembering what Marian had said, he doubted Robin would be here any time soon.

"Not now," she shook her head once. "But let us wait for him, before we decide anything."

"This isn't about Robin. It's about all of us," Will argued back.

"Will," Allan spoke up, but a glare from John silenced him.

"I do not want us to decide anything in anger," Djaq went on.

"Why are you defending him?" Will shook his head.

"Let us wait for Robin."

"Does Robin even know? Do you think he would react any differently, if he knew?" Will guessed the man would just be as angry as he himself was, even more so probably, considering everything he had risked for Allan, considering everything that had happened in Nottingham, and in York.

"I told him." Djaq looked at him insistently. "He does not think Allan will do any more harm."

Will stared at her, trying to make sense of her words. Was she telling him the truth, or was she just trying to defend Allan again?

"He has to go," John insisted, not looking at Allan any more.

After a glance at John, Djaq turned back to the younger man. "Will-"

"I don't understand you. Why are you defending him? He's a traitor. He sold us to Gisborne, got money for telling Gisborne things that could get all of us killed!"

"I don't-" Djaq shook her head, but Will turned away from her, heading back to camp, even as he saw from the corner of his eye that John was motioning, threatening, Allan once again to leave. Before he had fully made the way to the camp, Will stopped, swallowing down anger, and something that was more hurt than fury.

He turned to look back at the others, and saw that Djaq was talking quietly to Allan now, John watching from a few feet away, a dark expression on his face.

Will turned to the camp, and went inside without another look back.

* * *

Robin didn't feel much better when he left the sheriff's quarter than when he had come. He had achieved what he had come for, but he had also left some of the silver the gang had robbed behind, enhancing the bitter feeling that was connected with the whole deal. And he was tired.

He tried to raise his spirits with thoughts of Locksley, and the reminder that Vaysey had promised to leave Marian unharmed, had made an announcement about this, muddling in some words about how everything had been a misunderstanding.

Robin knew he should be happy, but how could he be so, when he was still seeing what was happening in Nottingham? Once he left the castle behind, he was right back in the poverty that many of the town's people lived in. Several times he was asked for food, but the only thing he could give were a few coins he had left, and he knew people wouldn't be able to buy anything from it, if nothing could be bought, at least not if you were not working for the sheriff. It was why they had brought the supplies from York, but the little they were able to get to the shire could never be enough. It was a good thing that it was spring, as the summer promised fresh yields from the peasants. Robin resolved to check how these things were going in Locksley, once he was back there.

The visit with Vaysey hadn't made it clearer to him what the man was up to. Robin was pondering this fact, as he walked through the streets of Nottingham, still subconsciously keeping to the shadows with his hood pulled deep into his face, although it wasn't necessary anymore. It was another shadow that pulled him out of the thought.

The person was moving carefully along, carrying an apparently heavy sack. She had her face concealed, but for Robin there was naturally not a moment's doubt that it was Marian, though he wondered what she was doing.

He hurried, purposely taking caution to not draw attention now, as he approached her. She saw him then, and slowed down, drawing back deeper into the shadows of an alleyway though.

As he joined her, a smile crossed his face. Relief and happiness were coming now, as he saw her, as the sudden hopes that had come with what had happened really registered with him. He could go back to Locksley, Marian could stay there, they could try and do their best for the people without having to run to the forest for it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, but the seriousness he had intended with his question was pushed aside by the sudden good mood he was feeling.

Marian pulled down the mask, giving him a view at her glowering expression that he hoped wasn't directed at him.

"The people need food. Haven't you seen it?"

He nodded. "I have." He looked down at the sack she had with her. "What's this?" he asked, though he already had a good idea.

"From the sheriff's storage," she admitted. "There's more we can get."

He nodded again, knowing he would be doing the same if they were back in the old situation.

"I understand that, but it's too dangerous."

She frowned. "I have been doing this for years; _we _have been doing this for years. Robin, the people need this." Her expression relaxed, as she laid an arm on his shoulder. "I don't believe you've forgotten that."

"Of course not." He could hardly have forgotten in the course of days, what with all the evidence clearly in front of his eyes as he walked through the town. But then he felt a kind of protectiveness when he looked at her, when he felt her touch, as she moved her hand around his neck and into his hair. He had come too close to losing her, and he didn't want her to risk her life anymore. Not when they had other chances. Not when they had been given a new chance, a fresh start.

He swallowed, remembering the paupers in the town, and his men that were still back in the forest, not trusting that the sheriff would keep his word. He couldn't forget his responsibility to any of them.

"Let us go to Locksley," he suggested, the earlier smile returning at the idea.

"Robin-," she was shaking her head.

"Vaysey promised me to let you go. There's nothing to worry about. We are free to do what we want."

"Not what we want," Marian emphasized.

Robin looked at her quietly.

"I will hand out what I have now," she said then. "It's not much."

He nodded. "I will help you."

He wondered briefly what the sheriff would say if he knew what they were doing. While Robin still worried what would happen if Vaysey were to find out about the Nightwatchman business, it was with curious interest that he thought about the idea of the sheriff learning that Robin was defying him again, at the same time needing him for his deal.

Marian pulled the mask back over her face, but Robin briefly saw the smile before it vanished from his sight.

**TBC**


	20. Division

**A/N**: **Thanks to Emmithar for the beta!**

* * *

**Chapter 20: Division**

The rain had become softer. It didn't help much though, as Djaq was thoroughly drenched by now, drops of water falling from her hair and running down her face as well. She didn't pay much attention to it as she watched the retreating form of Allan vanishing in the forest.

She had advised him to go. If she hadn't, John - or Will, for that matter - would have made him leave, and on less friendly terms than she had parted with him.

Allan had been desperate. He believed if he was to leave now there would never be a way back for him, and he had nowhere else to go either. Djaq had tried to tell him that Robin would allow him to return, once things had settled down, but Allan didn't believe that. Quite the opposite. He believed that Robin would come to hunt him down, kill him even, if only to protect the knowledge the gang had, about their camp and other issues. Djaq had argued against that, had told him that Robin would not do such a thing. She had tried to tell him what Robin had said, that he didn't think Allan could do any harm right now, but she had not wanted to phrase it this way, had wanted to make Allan see that there was more than this, that he could still be a part of the gang. She had started to remind him of the times where he had done good for them, where they had trusted in him, and rightly so.

For now he was gone; and Djaq didn't know where to.

"May Allah protect you wherever you go."

She told it to the trees as Allan was too far away to hear anything she said.

After a few more moments, she turned towards the camp and walked over there slowly, knowing she would be met with another conflict there. Will had been angry, and not only at Allan, but apparently at her even more so.

She had never intended to put herself between Allan and Will. She had felt it right that Allan got the chance to explain himself, but she hadn't expected that this would put her in opposition to Will.

When she entered the camp, she first saw John busy preparing a meal. He looked over to her, and she didn't detect any anger towards her in his expression, a fact that calmed her.

She spotted Will by his bunk then. He was hunched over, holding a piece of wood and a knife in his hands. He was carving something, though she didn't recognize what it was, but she guessed it didn't matter much. He was doing this because it calmed him when he was upset, she knew.

She was worried about being the one who had caused that feeling, but she also felt that it had been the right thing to do to speak up for Allan, no matter that she had not succeeded in it for now.

Djaq went over to John at first, saying his name quietly. He looked up to her again, grimacing slightly, and shrugged.

She managed a tight smile and walked to Will's side slowly. He stopped carving soon, not pretending for very long to be focused on his work. He didn't meet her eye though.

"Is he gone?" he asked crisply.

It wasn't the question she had expected, anticipating rather to be asked to explain her actions again.

"Yes," she answered simply. She could have told him how she hoped he would be back, but then this wouldn't be a good idea either. Not now, at the least.

"Good," Will answered, in the same tense voice.

Djaq had a hard time believing he actually felt this way. Allan had done wrong, yes, but she didn't think Will really wanted him gone permanently. The two men were friends, were they not? She shook her head, letting out a sigh.

"Robin has gone off to Nottingham," she said, sitting down near him.

"I know." It took a moment for him to reply, but when he did, she noticed the change in his voice. "Marian was here. She told us."

Djaq nodded, remembering what Marian had said to Much earlier. "Why is she not here?" She hadn't seen the woman, but that meant little. Most likely she had returned to Locksley, and they had simply missed one another.

"She went after Robin."

"How can that be?" Djaq looked at him. "Robin left from Locksley, he did not want her to come."

"What do you mean?"

"I think she is still in danger. Robin said he would talk to the sheriff about her. He also brought some of the silver. I do not know what he wants to do."

Will sighed, rubbing his head. "Marian will be fine. She can take care of herself. I worry about Robin. I don't trust the sheriff."

Djaq didn't say anything. She could understand Will's skepticism. But she still trusted that Robin would know what to do. If something was wrong, Robin would tell them. But then she could remember that Robin had wanted them to stay here, that he was not so sure about the sheriff's plans either.

"Food is ready," John said, having already taken a plate for himself.

Neither of the two moved to get any of it, sitting still where they were. Mildly she wondered about Allan, about what he would eat.

They hadn't addressed the issue yet, not really, apart from Will's first, strained question. But Djaq wanted to have the possibility to explain it to him, to tell him that she believed Allan was still their friend, that he needed them and they needed him. But she felt too uncomfortable breaking the topic again, if Will did not invite it.

"When is Robin going to come here?" Will asked all of a sudden, when Djaq had almost been about to move to get food after all.

"I do not know," she admitted, remembering then that she had asked that they wait for Robin before they made any decision about Allan. The man was gone now but she still hoped that Robin would agree to his return once they had a chance to think and speak calmly about it.

Will nodded, looking directly at her now, as if trying to gauge what she was thinking.

He probably wouldn't have liked her thoughts if he had been able to read them, seeing that they were straying to Allan again. She pushed them to the back of her mind. She wanted to tell him that she valued his opinion, that she believed he was acting in good faith, but that she also knew they could put trust in Allan. She was still wondering about the words she might have used, when he spoke again.

"I'm sorry." He looked away, abashedly. "For what I said."

She hadn't expected him to say this, hadn't thought he had anything to apologize for, as he had only spoken his feelings in a situation of trust and mistrust. She remembered the last time he actually had occasion for an apology, back then when he had locked her in a room in the castle, so she wouldn't be able to get the antidote to the sheriff after Will had poisoned him. He had been downcast then, not only about his father's death, as was understandable, but also because he had thought she would not forgive him.

He had seen then that she did forgive; she always did when she knew things had not been done with malicious intention, when she knew the other to be good, no matter that they had made mistakes. She just hoped Will would see that the same counted for Allan.

* * *

As the horse carried them away from Nottingham, Robin was reminded of the day when they had come to the town in a very familiar fashion, when he had picked her up at Locksley after the thankfully failed wedding. They had been careless then, had been lucky that they had not been seen, or rather that people had not realised what they had seen.

Now things were different; it didn't matter that the guards at the town's gate had seen them riding away together. There were still frowns on the men's faces, but Robin attributed this more to the fact that they had to let the former outlaw go free.

He also knew that they couldn't trust that things would stay the way they were now. It was very well possible that the deal with the sheriff would not work out, that they would have to go back to the forest. As Robin felt Marian holding on to him behind him, he figured that she would come with him in such a case. As long as the king wasn't home, they would never truly be safe.

For now, it felt good to take her away from the town, there were the sheriff still ruled. That Locksley was their destination only made it better. He smiled as he drove the horse on. He still had to take care with the reins, his hand still paining him and not really working as it was supposed to, but Djaq's words on the previous day had given him hope that it would heal fully.

He guessed that Much would be waiting when they returned, but he didn't know about the others. He hadn't asked Djaq what she planned to do, but could imagine that she had joined John, Will and Allan back at the camp. Well, not Allan, as Robin remembered what Djaq had told him had happened. That was one more issue Robin would have to take care of.

He hadn't been sure what he could suggest for the others, but he knew even less so now what to do about Allan. As he had told Djaq, he didn't think Allan could do any harm for now. This wasn't because Robin trusted that the man wouldn't give any more information to Gisborne if he had the opportunity, but rather because he was now dealing with the sheriff directly anyway. The sheriff was by now aware that Marian was with him; Vaysey had made that clear enough already back down in the dungeons. Their camp was still a secret though, and Robin was definitely not willing to give it up, considering they might have to go back there one day.

As they came into the forest, he slowed down the horse, glancing over his shoulder at Marian behind him.

"You alright?" he called.

"I'm fine."

He nodded, focusing on the way ahead again.

When they arrived in Locksley, Robin could already make out Much's form in the distance. Robin rode up to him, coming to a stop some feet away from the other, wincing slightly as he pulled up the reins. Marian slid off the horse, before he got out of the saddle, and Much beamed at him, as he turned around.

"You're back."

Robin knew that Much hadn't much liked him riding off to Nottingham after he had just escaped from there, but the man would have to get used to the fact that they were not to run off to the forest anymore.

"I told Thornton that you would want to eat when you're back. And Marian surely, too. And I."

"Thanks, Much."

"Of course, then Allan came, and he was hungry, too, so we-"

"Allan?" Robin asked sharply.

Much nodded. "He's inside. He didn't say why the others didn't come, though."

Robin gritted his teeth, frowning deeply. He relaxed somewhat as he looked at Marian. He had wanted to spend time with her, not have to deal with the traitor. He didn't even know why on earth the man had dared to turn up at Locksley now, even more so without the others. Then he remembered what Djaq had said. They had sent Allan away. Will and John had. While Robin didn't like that they had made a decision without him, he could understand their anger.

"Where is he?"

"By the kitchen, I think. I told him he could get something there," Much explained. "Surely you and Marian want-"

Robin was already making his way into the house now, wondering where Djaq was, seeing that Allan was here, but Much hadn't mentioned her. Maybe the Saracen had brought the man here, after being also the one who had told Robin about the betrayal.

Robin didn't even need to go as far as the kitchen, as he met Allan halfway there. The man visibly tensed as he caught Robin's eye. Though he would have wanted to throw the man out of the house as quickly as possible, it being rather ironic that just after he had gotten the place back from Gisborne he was now standing opposite of a man he had trusted, but who had been secretly working for the same man.

Robin crossed his arms in front of him. "Djaq told me," he informed the other, not trying to calm the anger he was feeling. This was the man who might very well be responsible for a lot of harm that had come to them, not the least thinking of what had happened in the autumn, and in York just a few days ago.

"I..." Allan started. "It's over, Robin, I swear. I'm not working for him anymore."

"But you did." Robin stated it quietly, remembering the days in captivity, the fact that Vaysey had had him – and Marian – in his hands. Ironically, it was what had brought him here, but if the sheriff hadn't felt the need for a deal, they might all be dead now.

"He tortured me, Robin."

Robin flinched in anger, holding up his injured hand. "You know what they were doing here?" He knew the man couldn't see the wounds beneath the bandages, but Robin remembered the pain and the fear well enough, of losing the hand, of never being able to use a bow again. "I was caught because you gave information to Gisborne, to the sheriff, to who knows who. Last year all of us were caught, we all nearly hanged."

"I didn't have a choice," Allan said. "And I didn't. I mean, York, that wasn't my fault. I didn't tell them anything. And last year, that wasn't me either. I got caught, too, didn't I?"

Robin took quick steps forward, pushing Allan once with force, as he didn't move out of the way. "So you worked for Gisborne, but never told him anything that harmed any of us." He grabbed Allan's tunic, waiting for the man to defend himself. "What did you tell him then? About our camp? About Marian?" The ideas of what could have happened made him hold the other yet tighter.

"I told him nothing, really, just when we were trying to get the sheriff's treasure and such, and he knew that already, didn't he, he could guess that."

"Get out of here." Robin let go of the tunic, pushing Allan towards the door instead.

"Robin, I'm sorry. Please, give me another chance." As Robin charged forward again, he jumped back, almost out of the door now. "The others, they want me to stay, they're giving me another chance."

Robin laughed without humor. "John and Will sent you away, didn't they? Djaq told me about it."

"But she wants me to stay. And Much didn't send me away either, didn't he? Even offered me food and all. Has the heart at the right place, Much-"

"He doesn't know!" Robin cut through the pleading. "You didn't care about him, or Djaq, or any of the others when you were betraying us."

"I did, I swear."

Robin swung his fist, still not able to stop his anger. He hit Allan at the temple, the man crumbling down to the floor. The sight made him stop, and caused him to step back, his heart racing.

"Robin, where are-" Much was coming inside, nearly falling over Allan's crumbled form. "What happ-, why-?" he mumbled as he saw the man who was groaning, looking up to where Robin was still trying to find his calm.

His hand was aching again now, as he could feel every heart beat resounding in it. He swallowed. "He's a traitor."

"A traitor?" Much exclaimed. "Why? How?"

"We have to get him out of here." Robin looked down at Allan.

He remembered now what he had told Djaq: that he didn't think Allan could do any more harm for now. Still, it did not mean he could forget what had happened; and Allan had experienced that now. He shook his head.

Much's expression showed something between concern and disgust as he looked at the man who was lying on the floor, while Robin was kneeling down next to Allan. He wasn't exactly sorry for what he had done, but wasn't feeling the same rage anymore either; he knew, if he had believed that Allan could still harm them now, could harm Marian with his betrayal, he might have killed him.

It was a strange thought, as he and Much were propping up the other. He didn't want to kill, not even the sheriff, but the rage he had felt at one of his own men... It was dangerous.

Allan's eyelids fluttered. Robin wondered again where Djaq was, this time out of slowly starting worry and regret. He pushed the latter away quickly, telling himself that the man had had it coming to him. It was Robin who had once saved him from the gallows, had given up everything for him and the others...

Allan opened his eyes then, meeting Robin's gaze as he stared down at the man. He winced, reaching up to touch his head. Robin drew back, leaving the man to himself. He sat down on the ground a few paces away, pulling his knees up, as he avoided Allan's gaze. He just wanted the man gone.

He didn't know what Much was doing, but didn't feel up to any comments from him either. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Allan slowly getting on his feet, groaning.

"You're not any better, Robin," he said, walking out of the door as Robin looked up.

"Master-" Much stopped before saying anything more.

"I could have killed him," Robin said flatly. He knew he had been angry enough for that, and if he thought of the idea of the man betraying them all, the idea that he might have given away Marian, maybe telling Gisborne that she was the Nightwatchman, he still did not feel it wrong. But then, Allan had been one of them.

"Well..." Much started again. "He deserved it, I suppose. Not to be killed, I mean. We don't kill. But you hit him. He deserved that, I'm sure. If he's a traitor."

Robin was silent, watching the floor. He wasn't sure Much meant what he said, remembering the man had spoken against Robin torturing Gisborne even. He probably didn't condone Robin hurting Allan out of pure anger.

Robin lifted his hand then, the pain still coming and going with the beat of his heart. There was so much he had to do.

"What are you doing?" he heard Marian's voice coming from the entrance. He looked up to meet her gaze, clearly wondering what why he and Much were sitting on the floor.

He grimaced. "We're not used to living in a house again," he tried joking and it earned him a short smile from her, before she asked again.

"What is wrong?"

"Allan," Much answered in Robin's place, and there was understanding in her expression.

She came over to Robin, offering her hand. He took it with his left, pulling himself up, at the same time as the exhaustion was once again falling over him.

"You need sleep," she said.

"So do you."

She nodded once.

He wondered if he really wanted to sleep in the bedroom that had been Gisborne's until a few days ago. He frowned, knowing he had to get past that. Locksley was his again, had always be his rightfully.

"You can take the other room upstairs," he offered then, guessing that it felt awkward for her to stay here, even now that they had cleared the problem with the sheriff.

"I stayed there, when... I was here with my father," Marian said quietly.

Robin nodded, looking at her, as he felt her sadness, while he had just been thinking of the fact that Gisborne had been here then.

He pulled her towards him, stroking her back and feeling the softness of her hair. "Get some sleep."

"I will."

**TBC**


	21. Return

**A/N: Finally a new chapter here. I've been distracted from this story for so long, mainly by writing the other fic, **_**The Longest Time. **_**Now my attention is back on this one though!**

**Thanks to Emmithar for the beta! :)**

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**Chapter 21: Return**

The coins felt well enough between his fingers. Vaysey smiled, holding one up. The silver reflected the light of the candle. It was yet the sweeter thinking of the fact that this was silver Hood had brought him. Returned to him. Well, technically it wasn't his, but the prince's, but the fact that he held it in his hands again would help getting back into John's good graces.

Holding the little speech that Hood had demanded had been less than agreeable though. Vaysey didn't like being made to look like a fool. But he thought he had gone over it well enough, blaming it all on a misunderstanding. Not that the people really cared, or that he cared at all what they thought, but knowing there might be glee in Hood because of it, stung.

A knock at the door of his chamber took Vaysey's gaze away from the silver.

"What is it?" he demanded loudly, looking back at the coins in front of him, as two men entered the room.

"My Lord," they said in unison, bowing.

Vaysey frowned. These men shouldn't be here. "Why are you not at Locksley?"

"He sent us away, my Lord."

"He? Hood?"

One of the men nodded. "Robin of Locksley. He told us to leave when he came to the manor."

Vaysey dropped the coin he had been holding in annoyance, it making a clinking sound when it fell onto the others. "You were not supposed to leave. You're supposed to tell me what goes on there!"

"Yes, but we could hardly stay when he told us to go."

"Who is giving you orders, Hood or I?" Vaysey yelled, willing to throw something at the man, but finding it too much a pity to waste the treasure in his reach on the incompetent men.

"You, my Lord," the man who had been silent so far was quick to reply with a glance at the other. Vaysey groaned.

"Then tell me something useful!"

"He's injured," the other blurted out.

"Injured?" Vaysey returned eagerly.

The spy nodded. "He has his hand bandaged. It's clearly hurting, too."

The sheriff had to stretch to reach it, but it was worth it. He picked up the cup that had been standing just out of his reach. "Tell me something new!" The cup didn't hit as the two men were quick to duck as it flew their way. "I already knew that! I'm not paying you to tell me things I already know. So are you going to be paid?"

The two spies looked at each other helplessly.

"A clue."

The men looked confused.

"Get out of here before your dead corpses are going to entertain me at dawn." The sheriff turned away as the men hurried to get out of his chamber. Those spies were absolutely useless, and Vaysey figured that they would not have helped much, even if Hood had not had the sense to send them away.

So Hood, Locksley didn't trust him, rightly so of course. But it was still a question in how far the man believed the tale that all those taxes and the silver were intended for the ransom of the king. While Prince John had not condescended to tell him so, the sheriff had heard enough rumors about the prince offering money to keep Richard captive. That was just another reason why he shouldn't cross the prince by not coming up with the needed funds, and not returning the ones that belonged to the man.

The thought of the prince brought the wonder where Gisborne was, and when he would come to fulfill his traitorous mission.

He had informed the guards that they were to let Gisborne pass into the town, but to give notice to Vaysey when this happened. The sheriff would be prepared, but wanted to deal with Gisborne on his own, with the guards in his backhand.

He figured Locksley would keep dropping in, too, but ironically this was the man who would never dare to kill him. If he judged him correctly from the experience of many years, Gisborne wasn't quite as sneaky as Hood at getting anywhere. But then he had misjudged the man – he had not seen the traitor in him.

Vaysey moved to the window that overlooked the castle yard. Nottingham lay dark beyond it. The next week would show how well he had Locksley in his hands. Tax day was coming and if everything went alright, the sheriff's chest would see more taxes from Locksley's holdings than ever before. For once Hood's gang would not try to take the money. Locksley believed it was all needed for the king's release from captivity. Vaysey guessed that it was actually needed; it would just never be used for that.

* * *

He awoke slowly. At first, everything seemed to be in place. The bed was comfortable, the air warm, the room quiet. He was home. Then, as sleep left and waking came, the urge to jump up and run came like a flash accompanied by the wonder as to what he was thinking being there, exposed to any of the guards that might be sent for any moment... It took him a second to remember that he was, indeed, home, and that there was supposed to be nothing to fear for him.

Robin rolled to his other side, staring at the wall. His thoughts went to the room on the other side of the wall. He wondered if Marian was sleeping. She definitely needed it, probably more so than he even. He felt sad for her. While he had been able to come home, she had lost anything of a home, of a family recently.

It was strange to just be able to lie here this calmly. It was like in earlier times – those very long ago. During the first year in the forest things had never been this calm. He had only slept lightly then – even if his night had not been plagued by nightmares. They had always been ready for detection, ready to pick up their weapons and provisions and run.

There had been more rest once Will had built the camp. It was well-hidden and safe, and during that first winter they had found protection there.

Robin slipped out of bed in the quiet darkness around him, the feelings of restlessness still underneath when he thought of the past, when he wondered if it was really the past. He pulled the old tunic he had been wearing over his head and moved down the stairs moments later.

He wasn't downstairs yet when he came to a stop. He could just see her pulling the mask over her face, only to slip out of the door immediately after. Robin hurried down the rest of the stairs, wondering where she was going. And what she was planned, seeing that it was the Nightwatchman who had just left the house. Robin needed to know.

"Marian," he called, hoping she would still hear it, as he reached the door, pushing it open again and scanning the dark and quiet village around him for the Nightwatchman's form. "Marian," he called again, sure she would have to hear him now. In a way it was risky, for he didn't want to chance betraying her alter ego to anyone.

A shadow at the side came to a halt.

Robin stepped towards her.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"What are you doing?"

"Doing my work."

"What work? Do you still have something to hand out? Or are you going to steal anything?"

She laughed quietly. "You say it like it's wrong."

"I'm just worried. The last time I saw the Nightwatchman robbing someone, Gisborne stabbed you." And it had been Locksley manor she had been breaking into.

"I've been doing this for years. And Gisborne isn't here."

"You just barely escaped the sheriff. If he catches the Nightwatchman-"

"As did you," she reminded him. "I need to do this, Robin."

He looked at her, wishing that he could see her face. He nodded. "Then I'll come with you."

"I don't think that's a good idea. If they saw you with me, it wouldn't be long until they figured out who the Nightwatchman is. Or that you're still working with him."

"We did the same in Nottingham the other day."

"Robin," she said warningly, "I need to do this on my own."

Robin finally nodded, knowing she was right. It would be too obvious, unless he was to conceal his identity as well.

"Besides, you need to take care of Locksley," Marian added, surprising him as she pulled him towards her, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as she lowered the cloth that hid her face for a moment.

"Take care."

She vanished around the corner of the house and Robin wished that she had at least told him where she was going. Of course, it was still true what she had said back in Nottingham. The people still needed the help. There was just the question what he could do. Reasonably, he should be able to do more and safely now that he was back in Locksley – as long as he did not cross the sheriff, which was of course what had been a matter of course in most of what he and the lads had done.

He just knew what he could not do now – go back to bed.

It was crazy to be here and wonder what Marian was doing, waiting for her to return and hoping that nothing happened. Of course, she had been doing the same what she was doing now for years, then when he had been in the Holy Land and had not even known what was wrong in Nottinghamshire. Could he have ever imagined there what she was doing as the Nightwatchman here? That it was even what she thought necessary, had to think so?

He had returned to find her unmarried to his great joy, having expected her to be wed and with children by now. Instead she could just as well have been caught and hanged as the Nightwatchman by then. The world was crazy.

Robin cast a worried look into the direction where she had disappeared, before walking back into the house.

"Robin?"

He didn't need to see the man to know that it was Much, awake as well. He didn't know how the man had known, or maybe it was just coincidence that he seemed to have come after him.

"Why are you not sleeping?" he asked, smiling.

"You're not," Much returned, coming closer to the door so that Robin could see his outline. "Is anything wrong?"

"No, nothing," Robin said slowly.

"Do you... isn't it strange that the others aren't here?" Much asked suddenly.

Robin sighed. "They can come here, if they want to." Djaq, Will and John were still at camp. Where Allan was Robin had no idea.

"Have you told them that? Have you asked them?"

Robin closed the door that had stood open so far, hoping Marian would return soon. "No, I haven't. It's not obvious enough, is it?"

"It is your home."

"The camp is the home of all of us."

"This isn't camp," Much shrugged.

"There's enough space."

"You're a noble, and this is your house."

Robin nodded. "I have to talk to them." He had guessed it was obvious to the rest of the gang that they could come and stay at Locksley, but as Much pointed out, maybe it wasn't as obvious as he suspected.

Much was nodding in agreement, but he was smiling now.

"We can do that later, when it is lighter out. How about I make some breakfast? You would like that, I think. I know I would, I haven't cooked in here for a long time. It will be just like old times!"

Robin nodded, returning the smile and knowing that it was true. He was hungry, and having something to do would help take his mind off of Marian.

* * *

The sky hung gray over the town of Nottingham, but Gisborne didn't pay much attention to it. He had decided to return when he thought enough time had passed for the sheriff's worst anger to have calmed. Guy had known him, had worked for Vaysey for many years and believed to be able to estimate the man's moods.

He didn't have any trouble getting into the town and to the castle yard, but the behaviour of some of the guards caused him to frown. There were nervous glances between them and one guard hurried into the castle when Guy was dismounting his horse on the yard. The man was probably running to the sheriff to be the first to tell the news. Still, the reactions made Gisborne wonder if Vaysey was still so angered that the guards were scared to witness a meeting between the two men.

Nevertheless, Guy couldn't imagine that Vaysey would still be furious about Marian. She just wasn't that important to him.

Guy might have failed the sheriff in that regard, not javing taken her back to Nottingham before Vaysey, but he never would have forgiven himself if she had been executed because of the sheriff's wrath, no matter that it was foolishness that had brought her into the situation in the first place.

But despite failing to follow Vaysey's order, he was certain the man would take him back into his service. He was a loyal Master-at-Arms, had always done what was needed for Vaysey's – and most of the time also his own – position. He had failed him in Marian's case, but that was just a personal matter, something that would pass. He couldn't sacrifice her because of the sheriff's choler, on a matter that was of no importance – Edward wasn't even alive anymore now.

Guy tried to banish the thoughts of her then. He didn't know where she was, so thinking of her just vexed him. Once he was back in Vaysey's good graces, he would start looking for her again. He would find her and would make sure that she was safe.

He walked up the steps towards the castle, assuring himself once more that his sword was at his side. It wasn't that he was afraid of Vaysey, but he didn't want to regret not taking precautions, in case the sheriff had not calmed after all. Raising a weapon against him wasn't anything that would count as fortunate either, no matter that he did not feel like ending up down in the dungeons because the sheriff was still furious about the matter with Marian.

Guy made his way up to the sheriff's quarters immediately, large strides taking him upstairs quickly. He had not much thought about what he would say, but he trusted in his hope that the sheriff would he pleased to see him back, would have calmed about that matter.

Guy hadn't quite made it to the sheriff's room yet, when he stood suddenly in front of the man himself.

His expression was somewhere between shock and anger. "Gisborne."

Guy noticed that the sheriff's hand went to the sword at his side. Nevertheless, he gave a small bow. "My Lord."

"So you have finally come."

"I have returned," Guy confirmed carefully.

"You underestimate me, Gisborne. Funny, when you think of how long you have worked for me. You should know me better."

"My Lord?" Guy asked confusedly.

The sheriff removed his sword in an apparently calm manner, looking at the blade for a moment before he raised it towards Gisborne and nodded briefly.

Guy was frozen to the spot for the blink of an eye, but then he took his sword as well. "My Lord, I am sorry we have had this disagreement. I swear my loyalty to you is as strong as ever and I-"

Vaysey laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, Gisborne."

"Sir, I apologize for my actions in regards to Marian." Guy knew that there was no point in laying out his reasons for what he had done. Vaysey would not care about them.

The man scoffed. "The leper? You're a traitor, Gisborne. What do I care about the leper?"

All of a sudden, Vaysey brandished his sword and Guy brought his forward to intercept it. There was a clang as they met and Guy stepped backwards.

He had to get out of here. Guy wasn't fully aware of what Vaysey was talking about, but the man was apparently not ready to let him back into his graces quite yet. He swung his sword again and Gisborne retreated even further.

"Kill him," Vaysey called and Guy glanced backwards, seeing guards closing in on him, swords raised. Guy parried and defended and tried to move out of the circle, but there was always a man who blocked his way out. They used to be his men; guards that followed him, that followed his order. Now they seemed to have no qualms in lashing out at him, trying to deal the fatal blow.

Guy turned around to face the sheriff again, fending off the man's sword once more. It wouldn't be much longer before one of them managed to be successful.

Then something flew from the left side, hitting Vaysey over the head and causing him to crumble to the floor. The distraction stunned the others and gave Guy the opportunity to scramble away, casting a glance back to see the Nightwatchman slip back into the shadows.

He didn't look back again as he rushed down the stairs, guards on his heels. Once he had made it to the castle yard, it was quiet, reassuring him the chase had been given up for now. Guy let out a breath, still in shock as to what had happened.

His mind was taken of the matter for a moment as he caught sight of a mask and a cape that belonged to none other than the Nightwatchman who was climbing down from the castle.

Why had the man saved him? By all rights the Nightwatchman should want him dead, seeing that Gisborne had once nearly succeeded in killing him.

Guy kept his gaze on him. Now he was the pursuer, seeing a chance to get back into the sheriff's good graces, if he finally caught the obnoxious criminal. He would not let the man get away once again. This time he would get him, and prove his loyalty to the sheriff once and for all.


	22. Uncovered

_A/N: Oh my, it's been so long since the last chapter! Life has been busy... Thanks to all who reviewed and reminded me to write! And thanks to Emmithar for the beta! :)_

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**Chapter 22: Uncovered**

At first Allan had not really known where to go. Will and John had sent him away, and Djaq had advised him to leave for the time being, telling him that he would be able to come back later. Much had been friendly, obviously happy to be back at Locksley, while Robin had reacted angrily, which hadn't really been a surprise, as much as the punch had hurt.

After that Allan had decided it was really better to leave, and had made his way to the only place that seemed to make sense for now: Nottingham. The villages were too closely knit to allow a new life for him there, no matter that many of the villagers would know who he was, or at least know that he had belonged to Robin Hood's gang.

In the town, on the other hand, things were easier, especially as they had all been pardoned. He was free to start a new life there. He might have considered checking in on Gisborne, see if the man had any leads for him, as he was the one who was basically responsible that Allan wouldn't get any assistance from Robin, but seeing that Locksley was back in Robin's hand and Gisborne apparently out, he figured there was no help to get from Guy either; he wouldn't have wanted to ask an irate Master-of-Arms in any way.

So Allan had made his way to the Tripp Inn. He was known there, of course, and not exactly unpopular. The fact that he wasn't an outlaw anymore now helped as well, as the innkeeper didn't

have to worry about getting into trouble for associating with an outlaw now. So when Allan had asked, the man had nodded, and as Allan had laid out his suggestion, a broad smile had followed.

Now Allan was sitting with his third ale that he had not needed to pay and a number of patrons was listening to him intently.

"So the gang's really in trouble with all of the sheriff's men," he told them, "when Will and I are coming back and help them out and fight the guards off one against three. And there we are."

There were cheers and Allan emptied the rest of his ale, while one of the patrons signaled the innkeeper to get Allan a new one.

"So you lived in a cave then? But you've got a real camp now, with bunks and a kitchen?" the man asked fascinated.

"Yeah," Allan nodded. "It's hidden and got trees all around."

"Can you tell again the story how you caught the taxman?" another man grinned, downing his own drink.

"Sure I can," Allan agreed. The men here had already a few favourites of the stories he could tell of his dangerous outlaw life. Besides that he was doing some odd jobs for the innkeeper, which was what earned him a roof over his head, and so far he liked this new life pretty much.

"And do you know who the Nightwatchman is?" The man smiled. "He's been helping for years, and you've been working with him, haven't you?"

Allan shrugged. "Even if I knew, and it's not like we really know, I couldn't really tell you. I mean, he's wearing a mask for a reason, isn't he?" He hoped the man would give up the question. He hadn't even told Gisborne for money who the Nightwatchman really was, so he surely wouldn't do so for a cup of ale, would he?

"Nobody can really know. There's even more than one Nightwatchman, if you remember last year," another man pointed out.

Allan laughed. No one needed to know that Djaq had been the second one. He grimaced at the thought, but then lifted the new cup of ale that had been placed in front of him. He wasn't planning to have any more regrets. For now, this worked well enough. Not being an outlaw anymore made Nottingham safe and he was sure he would find an odd job here and there once the patrons would grow tired of the stories of his life with Robin Hood's gang.

He didn't know what the others were doing. Will would probably return to Locksley. But life as a peasant wasn't for Allan anyway, he figured.

* * *

He mustn't lose sight of the man. This time he would catch him.

The Nightwatchman had descended to the streets of Nottingham by now, was running around corners, naturally in hopes of escaping Gisborne.

Guy didn't dare to alert any guards to the situation, unwilling to have them charge at him instead, if the sheriff had ordered them to do so, which was rather likely after what had been going on at the castle. So he needed to capture the man single-handedly and earn single-handedly the prize... winning back the sheriff's trust.

Running as fast as he could, Guy looked ahead to consider which way the Nightwatchman would try to flee. There were not so many ways out of Nottingham for a fleeing man. Maybe he would try to hide somewhere in the town, but as long as Guy would not lose sight of him, he would not manage to do so, and even then Guy would simply follow into whatever house the man might choose as a refuge.

As he came to the market, Guy was briefly held up by villagers walking into his way, that was until they recognized him and were backing away, leaving the way free to hunt after the Nightwatchman. Guy's excitement rose as he saw that his prey was facing similar problems ahead. The man tried to evade the collection of people, climbing over a heap of logs that was piled up next to a house. Reaching the top of the heap, the Nightwatchman stumbled though, tumbling forward.

Guy grinned as he rushed ahead, knowing his chance. The Nightwatchman scrambled to his feet, but he was trapped. At one side the house was looming, the roof too high to reach it from the ground, at the other side people, watching the spectacle and trying to make the way free for the thief. And then there was Gisborne coming up to them.

The Nightwatchman saw him and stared at him for a moment, before turning and trying to climb back over the logs he had just stumbled from. Guy followed, but then the Nightwatchman jumped and reached the roof of the house from the top of the logs. Feeling not quite as acrobatic, Guy ran around the building, cursing, pushing through people coming to stand in his way.

Still, he could see the Nightwatchman fleeing over the roof and guessed where the man would try to descend. Guy awaited him with a smile, drawing back into the shadows of the house. He hoped to catch the man unaware. Now he would not get away.

And then the masked man appeared above, and Guy watched him climb downwards. He didn't simply want to strike him down, no matter that he could. He wanted to catch him, and show his catch to Vaysey.

He didn't want to kill him, not right now. He needed to tackle him... The Nightwatchman dropped the last few feet to the ground and Guy jumped forward, colliding with the man so that both of them came to a fall.

Guy did his best to pin the other to the ground, but could feel him turning and a moment later the pain as the man kicked him in the guts. Guy winced and grabbed the Nightwatchman's cape, but the other was already back on his feet. Guy now gripped his sword, panting.

"Give up. You've got nowhere to go," he called. "You might even get to see tomorrow, if you give up now. Else, die here." He struck out with the sword, but the Nightwatchman skirted away from it like he had done many times before. Only once, one glorious time had Guy managed to sink a blade into the man's guts. There had been another time when he had managed a superficial wound. Both times though, it had not been enough to kill. And he didn't intend to kill right here and now. But the other didn't need to know that.

Guy struck out again and again and again, but couldn't get anywhere. Pretending another strike, he jumped forward again, now bringing his full body weight against the other. A moment later he could feel the blood in his face, as another kick had found its mark, as the Nightwatchman rolled away. Guy reached for him again, seeing that the other was groggy, too. He only got a grip on cloth again, pulling the cape as the Nightwatchman tried to turn away. Guy heard a quiet groan as the man was held back.

No, no man. That sound...

"Who are you?"

With a quick pull the other freed himself, backing away. Guy held up his sword again.

"Who are you?"

The other moved backwards still and Guy watched him in frustration.

"Why did you help me?" It was a good question. It didn't make any sense. Did the man think he would let him go now, because of that?

Still not having received an answer, he stepped forward again, pointlessly swinging his sword, as he knew the other would be able to evade him again. The man picked up a piece of wood and Guy almost laughed, wondering if he intended to defend himself with that. If Guy just kept it up a little while longer, he might be able to lead the Nightwatchman down into the dungeons after all. What a feat that would be. He had even managed to catch Robin Hood before, but never the Nightwatchman!

Striking again, the staff in the Nightwatchman's hands caught the sword this time, but it was obvious that the piece would not hold for very long. After a few more deflected or evaded strikes, Guy swung his sword to the side, triumphantly catching the other's arm this time. The cry made Guy freeze. The sound – it was not what it should have been.

But now... the other was hurt, not just exhausted. Guy wasn't the only one whose blood was trickling to the ground. It was his chance to finish this.

Gisborne stood frozen a moment too long. The Nightwatchman brought the staff upwards, swinging it against Guy's head. Guy dropped his sword, the sound he had heard still in his mind, as the pain of the strike came over him.

It couldn't be.

Trying to regain his balance, Guy reached for his sword, but saw that it was in the hands of the Nightwatchman now.

The man held the sword pointed at Gisborne, unmoving.

It seemed as if Guy saw the other really for the first time. The Nightwatchman; it wasn't a man.

Guy stared at her, seeing for the first time who was really before him, no matter that she was still wearing the mask.

"Marian." It wasn't a question, no matter the faint feeling he had. As the first surprise was over, there came another feeling: betrayal. She was the traitor, the one who had stolen from the sheriff, from him, had been helping Hood... This, this was probably the worst of all.

She still held the sword, wasn't answering. But the silence was answer enough for him. He knew he was right.

"The Nightwatchman," he said bitterly. "If I catch the Nightwatchman, the sheriff will welcome me back. I had to leave here because of you, because of your foolishness." He reached up, feeling the blood that was still running down his cheek. "I didn't know it wasn't just foolishness. I didn't know you were a traitor."

Seeing the sword pointed at him he figured it was not the wisest words he could choose. But what did it matter?

Marian reached up with one hand then, removing the mask and confirming her identity. She was pale, glancing at the wound at her arm.

Guy had as of yet to feel sorry for it.

He had wondered where she had gone, if she was safe. And now he knew that she was running around as the Nightwatchman, breaking the law, helping Hood... Oh, she had helped him, had saved him even several times over. She was working with Hood.

"We need to leave, Guy," she said, a frown on her face that he was able to see now.

"Do we?" he sneered back at her. He had the Nightwatchman now. He knew who she was. She couldn't hide behind the secret identity anymore.

"The sheriff wants you dead."

Guy gave a short laugh. Of course he had noticed this. It was all her fault. "Thanks to you."

She ignored this, looking at him intently. "You need to leave. He wants to kill you. He even told Robin to do something about you."

"Hood?" Gisborne spat. So the sheriff was working with Hood against him? And Marian was working with them? But she had saved him...

Marian shook her head, but Guy wasn't sure at what. "We can't talk about this here. We need to leave."

"And where will we go, if I may ask?" Guy returned angrily. "Or where will you go? You can't run to Locksley anymore, can't go back to the castle. So it's off to Hood in the forest, isn't it?"

She looked at him sadly, slowly laying down his sword. He could just take it now and make her go to the castle, present his catch to the sheriff.

"Take care," she said then. "Come to Locksley, if you need help." She walked past him then, pushing the mask over her face again.

Guy stood fixed to the spot. After a few moments he moved to pick up his sword, before he finally turned around.

The Nightwatchman was gone.

* * *

Robin had noticed that it wasn't only at night that Marian left Locksley. She was still restless, Robin could see that, and it was not the first time today that the Nightwatchman had started her tour from Locksley.

It caused him to wonder if she didn't really want to be there. But then he could understand her need to do something... Robin planned to talk to Thornton once more about the taxes. The new tax that was to be paid by himself did not bother him so much; it was to get the money for the king's ransom together after all. But he also knew that the peasants didn't have anything to give anymore. He couldn't ask it from them.

Robin rubbed his fingers as they grew cold in the fresh spring air. The ones that had been hurt did not bother him much anymore. Still, he hadn't yet used a bow again. He had been standing outside of the house for a while now. The sun hadn't shown itself at all during the day, so any warmth the coming season might promise wasn't there yet.

The horse that came from the distance showed him that his wait hadn't been in vain.

Marian looked thoughtful when she dismounted. She had packed up the Nightwatchman's clothes in her bag and Robin wondered how many people might have seen the masked man leaving these past few days. How many of them would guess his identity?

"Has everything gone alright?" he asked, but a closer look at her told him that it hadn't. She was hurt.

"Gisborne," she said, as she led her horse away. "He is back."

"Where?"

"I saw him in Nottingham."

The tone of her voice told him that this wasn't quite everything. She hadn't only _seen _the man and Robin's frown grew deeper as he saw her injury and heard of Gisborne...

"Where?" he went on.

"He went to the castle," Marian specified.

Robin smirked. "I'm sure Vaysey liked that. Are they both alive?"

Marian patted the horse. "Can we go inside and talk there?"

Robin sobered up and nodded. When they were in the house, he wasn't even sure he really wanted to talk about Gisborne. Or Vaysey.

"Gisborne-" she started.

"I'm not sure what I'm doing," he said.

"What?"

He turned to her, having closed the door to the hall. "We have to bring the king home, but I don't know if we're doing just that. I don't know where the taxes are going, where the money is going. Who's telling us Vaysey isn't using it for the Black Knights?"

"Maybe Gisborne can help," Marian said.

"What?"

"I told you, I saw him in Nottingham. He came back."

Robin scoffed. "Yes, but he's not on best terms with Vaysey, is he? And if he is, we are not on best terms with him, or are you?"

Marian shook her head. "The sheriff tried to kill him."

Robin gave a short laugh. He didn't really want to care if Gisborne and Vaysey were at each others throats, but he couldn't really help feeling a little satisfied. He had wanted to get back at Gisborne... Marian didn't feel it was right, but then she seemed to have a soft spot for that murderer anyway. Robin frowned, the laugh gone, as he tried to banish the less amusing thoughts, too.

"But he's alive?" he clarified her earlier point.

She nodded. "The Nightwatchman... helped." Her expression told him that she expected him to be angered, showing him just clearly enough that there was no point in fighting the issue. She already knew what he thought.

"So what do you want to do? How can he help us?" Robin didn't exactly try to keep his incredulity out of the question.

"He may not be able to get to sheriff now, but you can. And I'm sure there are things he knows that can help us."

Robin sighed. "Then let's try."


	23. Answers

**A/N: Thanks to anyone who is still reading.**

* * *

**Chapter 23: Answers **

He hadn't come to Locksley and it shouldn't really have surprised her. He would never voluntarily set a step in front of what now was Robin's door again to ask for help, no matter that it was her who had invited him there.

They hadn't agreed on any alternative meeting place. Actually they hadn't agreed on anything at all, seeing that they had parted the last time after a fight and Guy clearly feeling betrayed by the reveal that Marian was the Nightwatchman.

It had needed come convincing, but finally Robin had agreed to help her find him. He didn't know where Gisborne was either, but they had decided to go to Nottingham and start looking for him there. They didn't know if the man hadn't rather fled the town, but he didn't have any other place to go in the shire; yet maybe he had left altogether.

Marian had left the Nightwatchman's attire at Locksley this time, joining Robin just wrapped in a long cloak. People who got a close look at her would recognize her, but as they both were on supposedly good terms with the sheriff at the moment, it seemed better to be seen like that than to risk an exposure of the Nightwatchman.

They rode up to Nottingham in the sunshine of this surprisingly warm spring day. It felt peculiar to ride towards the town gate as openly as this and Marian wondered how many years it had been since they had done that. They had been young, very young, when they had ridden together like that, back then not always everyone agreeing with the manner. But she had been the sheriff's daughter, Robin the very young Lord of Locksley – most people had decided not to mind.

Robin spoke briefly to the guards at the gate, the nervous manner of the men showing Marian that the situation wasn't a matter-of-fact for them either. For so long they had been supposed to catch the very man in front of them, and now he rode in here like that, accompanied by her even more so.

"So let's split up and meet later back at the gate," she suggested, once they were inside the town. "We'll be quicker to find Guy this way."

Robin's look, as he climbed from his horse and tied it to a post, told her that he wasn't enthusiastic about the plan. "Just don't find Gisborne in a too fool mood of his."

"I'll be careful," she promised, but she doubted that Guy would mean her any harm. Yes, he had cut her with his sword the last time they met and the wound on her arm still hurt, but he had cut the Nightwatchman then, and she knew that he would not harm her.

Marian walked over towards he market place, Robin going the other way. She headed in the direction of the Tripp Inn first, knowing Guy had sometimes gone there in the past. She remembered he had met the spy there - Allan as she knew now. Maybe there would be other people who could tell her where he was now, or where he might be likely to go.

She knew it wasn't exactly usual for a noble woman to go to a place like this, no matter that she had been here before, though in disguise then. So it was no surprise that many pairs of eyes were on her as she entered the inn, though she didn't know if it was because she was a woman or because they recognised her.

She didn't have a very clear plan what to do once she was inside, had pondered whether to directly ask the inn keeper or just try to blend in with the patrons. She didn't have to make a decision though, for she had just entered, when she heard Robin's name mentioned in a group of men sitting together. One glance told her what was going on there. Allan was sitting with a cup of ale, several men around him, listening to him telling a story of his adventurous outlaw life.

Marian walked over to the group, coming to a stop behind one of the men.

"So I'm taking out four guards at once," Allan was telling. "Robin's amazing with his arrows, too, you know, and-," he stopped as Marian caught his gaze.

She raised her eyebrows and made a slight movement with the head so as to indicate that she wanted to talk to him.

"Ah, a lady wants to see me," Allan excused himself, standing up, and Marian shot him a look. Considering it wasn't too long ago that he had been found out to be the traitor among Robin's men, he was talking quite carelessly.

He moved over to a secluded corner of the inn and Marian followed.

He didn't get the chance to say anything before Marian started, "Do you have any idea where Guy might be?"

Allan frowned. "I'm not working for him anymore, I told you, well not you, but the others. I didn't lie."

"It's not about that," Marian said. "You might still know where he is."

"I don't know," he shrugged.

"Is there any place he might go to when he can't go back to the castle?" Marian insisted.

"Look, Guy isn't my friend. I didn't even work for him really. I told him a few things, that was a mistake I know that, I swear, but I've got no clue what he is up to now."

Marian sighed. How was she to find Guy if even the person she had figured was most likely to know anything claimed he didn't? As far as she knew Guy didn't have any friends. At least he had none left after some had even fallen victim to his aspirations, as she remembered Lambert. There were lackeys, there was the sheriff, there was her. She didn't know anyone else Guy trusted or had trusted.

She turned around, leaving Allan where he was. She walked out of the building into the town, wandering aimlessly for some time, thinking. She didn't have a way to contact Guy, or did she? After a while she made her way back to the inn, stopping in front of it and looking at the beam where she had seen a sign several times before. Now lifting a piece of chalk, Marian recreated the sign on the beam, before she entered the inn again.

Allan was still sitting with his group of people, though the mood seemed to have become quieter now. Marian didn't show herself to them, but settled down in another corner, where she could watch the entrance without being seen herself. She would wait if Guy turned up, drawn in by the sign Allan used to signal that he wanted to meet the man.

* * *

Robin didn't put much effort into trying to find Gisborne. He looked around at a few places that came to mind, mostly taverns, but he had other business on his mind. If he or Marian were to find Gisborne by chance, he would talk to the man, because Marian had asked him to, but for now he decided to go to the castle.

His intention wasn't to visit the sheriff, and so he took some care to not draw too much attention to himself, no matter that he wasn't trying to get in by stealth either. If any guard would try to stop him, he could easily say he had business with the sheriff. After all, this whole pardon thing might come in handy.

He passed the guards at the entrance without so much of a flinch from them. Making his way upstairs, Robin went a little slower, unwilling to have another conversation with the sheriff this day. He was looking for information, but they wouldn't come from a talk with that man. Still, his destination were the man's chambers – he just didn't plan to be noticed. The castle appeared quiet and rather empty; there were hardly any guards patrolling the corridors that Robin needed to evade.

When he got closer to the sheriff's quarters, he could see more and more guards, and he figured that was because of the sheriff's fear of Gisborne. Robin made a quick decision to use stealth after all and climbed upwards along the castle wall to where he would get into the sheriff's bedchamber unnoticed as he had done several times before.

The man wasn't there and listening at the closed door to the adjoining room, Robin didn't hear anything either. What caught his gaze in the room was a piece of parchment that was lying about. Hoping to gain any information as to what Vaysey actually did with the silver, Robin picked it up and read what turned out to be a letter.

It was from Prince John addressed to the Sheriff of Nottingham – curiously without explicitly mentioning Vaysey's name – and didn't mention the silver, much to Robin's disappointment. It mentioned him though. The prince announced a visit to Nottingham in which he beyond other things wanted to determine with his own eyes if the sheriff finally had the outlaw problem by the name of Robin Hood under control. Robin smiled, understanding some of the sheriff's desire for their deal.

The visit was announced for a day in two weeks time, and Robin guessed he would hear again from the sheriff by then. He wondered mildly amused how the man planned to present his success. Robin just had to make sure it wasn't in the form of him being taken prisoner again. He wouldn't let that happen again.

He put the letter back where he had found it and quickly searched the room for any other useful information. Not finding any he looked out of the window into the castle yard, keeping out of sight, but spotting someone else outside.

He climbed out of the window and made his way downstairs considerably quicker than he had come upstairs, intend on following Gisborne, who was now leaving the yard behind, unnoticed by the guards, but not able to evade Robin's eyes from higher above. He followed him into the town and through the narrow streets. In front of the Tripp Inn Gisborne stopped and Robin could see why: The man was looking at a sign made of chalk outside of the building. Robin remembered the sign. He had seen it before in a similar situation at the same tavern, then when he had seen Allan emerge from there about the same time as Gisborne had. Now he knew that the two men likely had met then, Allan selling information about the outlaws.

Robin frowned. Had Allan planned another meeting with Gisborne? Was he as opposed to everything he had claimed still spying for him? Would he tell the man every last piece of information he had to give, would he tell him where their camp was?

The sun was nearly behind the horizon now and Robin had agreed with Marian to meet again at the southern gate by dusk, but Robin decided to follow Gisborne for now. Pulling his hood deeper into his face, he entered the inn. Gisborne was looking around, apparently searching for Allan.

Gisborne walked through the inn, seemingly aimless. Robin followed. When the other reached a corner of the tavern, someone suddenly put a hand to his arm, signalling him to sit down. Robin slowed down, no matter that he was keen to hear what the two men were exchanging, but he was caught between wanting to expose Allan directly and the desire to hear what was going on before they would notice him.

Gisborne had seated himself opposite of the other. There was a look of surprise on his face. Robin edged closer, but he wasn't able to hear what was said, the voices being drowned out in the talking of the other guests. Robin got yet closer and it was lucky that Gisborne was so focused on the other man, or he certainly would have noticed him now.

"You have been working for Hood the whole time, haven't you?" Gisborne spat rather loudly at this moment and it was the first thing that Robin could understand, though it confused him. Gisborne was blaming Allan for working for Robin? He didn't understand the reply, the talk, shouting and laughter of the other guests ringing in his ears, and tried to get yet a bit closer, turning around now to have his back towards the two men. He slid onto a bench next to the table where they were sitting then, tiredly watched by a very drunken patron.

"You've been on his side all this time," Gisborne declared coldly.

"Yes," Robin heard the reply now, and now he understood. Gisborne wasn't meeting Allan, but Marian. She had made him come here, had probably drawn the sign outside. "I have been helping the poor for a long time, long before Robin returned. But after he came back, we shared this goal. I don't always agree with what he is doing, but we both know that we have to help."

Gisborne was silent for some moments, before he spoke so quietly that Robin had to strain his ears, "I thought there was a chance for us."

"I haven't come here to talk about that, Guy," Marian said. "Things have changed."

Gisborne laughed bitterly. "Yes. Hood managed to turn the sheriff against me." After a pause, he added, "And you were in it, too. Was it all a charade? Was it all to betray me?" his voice grew louder and threatening, and Robin was short of interfering, anger rising in him.

"No, that's not how it was," Marian said quickly. "I'm here to ask you to work with us."

That moment all hell broke loose. Robin felt the table hit him in the side, nearly falling over, as Gisborne pushed it forward in anger, Marian jumping up.

"You betrayed me!" Gisborne yelled and made a move towards Marian, just as Robin untangled himself from table and bench. Gisborne tried to grab her, but Marian ducked and he missed. Robin jumped in front of him, ready to deal a blow. "Hood," Gisborne spat, hesitating only a moment, before he grabbed the nearest bench, trying to propel it towards Robin. This seemed to be the sign other patrons had been waiting for, for suddenly the inn erupted in a full blown fight. Robin dealt a few kicks and blows into Gisborne's general direction, but didn't get close enough to the man in the ensuing chaos. His focus now turning to Marian, he saw her ducking blows and then being grabbed by a man, before she kicked him and he let go of her again. She moved towards the exit, but glanced around, obviously looking for Robin, or maybe even Gisborne. Jumping over a table, Robin was quickly by her side.

"Let's go," he called. He didn't know how long it would take till guards turned up, and he wasn't keen on landing in the sheriff's dungeons again for something as stupid as a tavern brawl.

Once they were outside, Robin hurried on, while Marian stopped, looking back at the inn. A moment later, the door opened again and someone pushed Gisborne outside, the man falling hard on the ground and remaining there, knocked out.

"No brawls in my tavern," a man who Robin recognised to be the innkeeper called after him, no matter that Gisborne probably couldn't hear him at this moment. A few other men followed the same way out Gisborne had gone, most of them heavily drunk, and Robin could hear the clang of guards approaching in their armour from the castle.

"Guy - we can't leave him to the guards," Marian said. "Vaysey wants him killed."

Robin didn't really feel sorry at the thought.

"Robin!" Marian urged him. "I can't carry him on my own. You've got to help me, please." She moved towards Gisborne and Robin followed her grudgingly.

"Why are we helping him, if not the others," he complained, though he knew the answer. The sheriff wouldn't bother with the random drunks. Gisborne he would kill. It was only the question as to why. Why did Vaysey fear the man? Why did he fear him so much that he had offered that deal to Robin – apart from the matter with Prince John that Robin had detected earlier that day? Maybe this was a chance to find out, Robin figured, as he helped Marian half carry, half drag Gisborne away from the site of the brawl.

"Wait here," she said finally as they had reached a dark alley that hid them from view. "I'll get our horses."

Robin liked the idea of having Gisborne walk to the forest bound to a horse like he had once done to Robin after he had given himself up in Locksley to save the peasants there. Marian would probably like the idea a little less. And shoving the lust for revenge aside, he knew that she would be right. Once she was back with their horses, they lifted Gisborne up on one, the man still out cold. Riding out of the town went slowly this way, the lone guard at the gate luckily not given a second glance to an apparently drunk man reeking of ale, and Robin breathed more freely once they were away from Nottingham and on the way to the forest.

Marian would want to pay Gisborne back by helping him, but he, Robin, he wanted answers.

**TBC**


	24. Allies

**Thanks to Emmithar for the beta!**

**Chapter 24: Allies**

He woke up slowly, feeling the hay he was lying in poking against his skin. This wasn't a surprise – it wasn't the first night he had spent not in his bed at Locksley, but on the go anywhere he could find shelter. He had been furious to learn that not only did the sheriff want him dead, but the man had also given the estate back to Hood. For a few days now Guy had stayed in Nottingham, trying to evade the sheriff while at the same time keeping a watch on the man.

Guy turned around from where he had been lying, looking up and saw her sitting there in the shine of a small torch. This wasn't Nottingham, that was another thing he noticed. A groan escaped him, as pains in his head and body registered more fully. He seemed to have taken a good beating.

It was nearly dark and only the small shine of Marian's torch illuminated the place.

"What..." Guy started. Slowly sitting up, yet holding his head, he began again, "What is this?"

"We're in Locksley," Marian explained. Locksley. Marian. He had seen her in Nottingham at that inn where he had gone under the presumption that Allan wanted to talk to him. Hood had been there...

"What do you want?" he asked. "Deliver me to the sheriff now that you've turned him against me?" This was certainly Hood's doing. Gisborne had heard that the man was back at Locksley, apparently having regained the sheriff's favour with the promise of delivering Gisborne to him. If Guy only knew why Vaysey had turned against him. But then he did know. Marian. Because he had helped her and betrayed the sheriff's trust. And now she was playing him still.

"We want to help you," she insisted.

"So that is why you take me captive, you and Hood, I presume."

"You are free to go," Robin said from the door of what Guy now recognized to be the barn at Locksley, entering from the darkness outside. Marian glanced at the man and they exchanged a look of mutual understanding that Guy abhorred.

He laughed bitterly. "You bring me here, take away my weapons, yet tell me I am free to go."

"Your weapons are outside, Robin just wanted-"

"Robin," Gisborne spat. "It's Hood now who's making the calls, is it?"

"It was actually Marian's idea to bring you here," Robin said flatly. "Now if it were me, I would have left you in Nottingham for the guards." Marian turned towards Robin and frowned, but Gisborne noticed that the man hardly seemed to care. "So why is Vaysey afraid of you?" he asked. So they had taken him from Nottingham; Guy wasn't sure what had happened there. He remembered the fight at the inn. Why had they brought him here and not to the sheriff... the guards would have taken him from their hands, they wouldn't have needed to bother... But then Hood wanted information, so it seemed.

"I'm not telling you anything," Guy said. "For all I can see, you turned him against me. It was probably your doing," he looked at Marian, "you got me to go behind his back to save you and your father from your own foolishness."

Marian looked at him as if she wanted to say something, but apparently there was nothing she could say, Guy figured.

"Does it have anything to do with Prince John?" Robin went on.

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you, Hood?" Guy smirked. He wondered if his weapons were really outside. He wished he had his sword by his side now and could talk to Hood in a whole different way. He got up, looking from Robin to Marian. "Vaysey's going to see sense and take me back. Actually, once I tell him a few new facts about the both of you, he's going to welcome me with open arms, reward me even for finally discovering who the Nightwatchman is, and that he is in league with Hood."

Marian looked at him, "Guy-"

He pointed at her. "And then the Nightwatchman will pay for his crimes, along with Hood."

He still couldn't bring himself to say it out loud that she was that very person, even as he was accusing her in every other way but out loud at the same time.

"You do not want that," she said.

"Oh, I do," Guy assured her. "You think I will keep you from hanging for what you did?" He looked away from her, staring at the hay instead. "I've lost others, others who betrayed me." He felt the betrayal again that he had felt after the failed wedding. She had felt his rage then, had paid with her home that he had given to the flames. Why did she think he would spare her now after turning against him, betraying him so many times?

"You can help us," she tried again. "And we can help you."

Guy didn't listen. He strode over to the barn door, not looking back. Only when he had stepped outside, did he glance back briefly and saw her and Robin standing close, and with a grim expression he vanished into the night.

He found his weapons outside and picked them up carefully. He hefted his sword to his side. Before leaving he looked back at the barn once more. It would be so easy now. He could trap the both of them. Did he really want her dead? Wasn't she dead already to him, having given herself to Hood?

She had called it help. Maybe it had been help, really, help for him to see things more clearly.

* * *

The last few days had been quiet. Will had just busied himself with some small repairs at the camp, going out hunting with John and Djaq and going to Locksley a few times to see Robin and Much – and to look at his father's old house. Robin had invited them to come to Locksley, told them that they didn't have to remain hidden at the camp anymore. Still, they had stayed in the forest for now, though Will didn't know when they would make a decision. It would be easier for him than for Djaq and John.

Now Will was making his way through Nottingham, for the first time in years without the need to hide who he was. Though he didn't like to admit it to himself, there was a reason why he had come. He had heard from the other villagers that stories about the outlaws were making their way through Nottingham; not the stories that had always been told, but first-hand tales of the outlaws' experiences. It was Allan who was telling them.

Will had come to the Tripp Inn where Allan was supposed to tell stories for ale and money, had come to see the former outlaw. It was easy to find the man. He was sitting in the middle of a large group of people. They were all listening intently on what he was telling, laughing from time to time.

"So that was the story with the tax man," Allan was saying now, and the patrons clapped. Some were ordering a new round of ale for Allan, willing him to continue.

Will moved forward and dropped a coin into the cup Allan had placed on the table next to him. "Has there ever been a spy in your gang?" he asked coolly.

Allan's eyes widened as he recognized Will. "No, no, there wasn't. Sheriff would have finished us, if there had been, wouldn't he?" he chuckled. "Let me rather tell the story again how we crashed Gisborne's birthday party for the king, shall I?"

The patrons cheered and a few more coins wandered into Allan's cup.

Will sat down. Allan started his story and Will had to smile a few times, as he recalled the happenings. To his eye it was obvious that it made Allan nervous that he was here, but the other guests didn't seem to notice or care.

Once Allan was finished and the clapping had died down, Will said, "Can you tell us the story how you got caught by Gisborne?"

Other patrons looked at him and exchanged uncomfortable glances among each other. They probably knew this wouldn't be a happy story like the ones about the outlaws robbing tax collectors or crashing Gisborne's parties.

"Eh, I'm not sure, really-," Allan started.

"Come on, tell us!" someone said. "We know Gisborne isn't the guy who you want to run in with, but you're here and in one piece, so that's something. Someone who can tell the story!"

There was approving murmur.

"So, eh, that was here actually, here at the inn, where Gisborne caught me," Allan started and a tense silence followed as the men listened curiously. "I had played a few games and then, he was suddenly there, right in front of me."

As far as Will knew, Allan probably hadn't simply played a few games, but had tricked patrons out of their money. It was no surprise it had caught up with him at some point. He had probably swindled the wrong person there and that one had gone to Gisborne.

"I was taken to the dungeons," Allan continued. He glanced at Will, and his expression made Will feel sorry that he was making him tell the story here and now. It wasn't right. It hadn't been right that Allan hadn't told them before, that he had betrayed them even to Gisborne. Will could not let that pass. But still, making him tell the truth here wasn't right either.

Will shook his head briefly, only Allan seeing the gesture.

"It wasn't pretty," Allan went on. "They tortured me."

"Why?" one man wanted to know.

"Because they can," Allan replied, and once again there was affirmative murmur, though more subdued now.

"They finally let me go then."

"Why?" was once against the question.

"Don't know. Maybe got bored," Allan mumbled, without looking at the man or anyone else.

"That was a short story," someone complained.

"Well, don't really want to talk about that, you know?" Allan pointed out, trying to regain the mood.

"Yeah, I want to hear a funny story again!" a clearly drunken patron yelled, spilling ale all over the other men as he swung his cup with a grand gesture.

Allan nodded, and Will got up, turning to leave.

"Well, maybe after a short break," Allan said suddenly. Will moved through the inn, making his way to the exit, as Allan caught up with him.

"Will."

Will turned around.

"You want to talk to me, don't you? That's why you came here, didn't you?"

After a moment, Will nodded. It was the truth, though he was not sure what he would say.

"I did come because of that, but I'm not sure what there is to say," he admitted.

"Look, Will, I am sorry. I told you, it was wrong to work for Gisborne. I never should have told him anything. And I would not really betray you, I swear, I would never do anything that would hurt you," Allan went on. "And I'm not just saying that so that you take me back, because really, I'm doing alright here. I've got a roof over my head-"

"Yes," Will said.

Allan rubbed his forehead. "Look, I don't know what else to say. What can I do? Is there a point in doing anything? Would you ever forgive me? Or the others?"

"I don't know," Will said truthfully. At the moment, he wasn't forgiving Allan, but why then had he felt the need to come here? He didn't know what would have been, if their detection of Allan's betrayal hadn't coincided with the pardon. He guessed they would have thrown him out anyway, such a measure even more necessary in such a case, when it might have been a matter of life or death who you could trust.

In a way he didn't want to forgive Allan. It felt wrong. The man had sold them out to Gisborne. How could he forgive him as if it had just been a boyish prank?

A pint of ale appeared in front of him that Allan seemed to have ordered. Will looked up and saw that he had one for himself. Well, maybe they could share at least this for now.

* * *

Vaysey was tired. It seemed nowadays he had to manage everything he would usually have let Gisborne take care of. It wasn't like he could tell Hood to do some of the deeds that needed to be done. The man was suspicious enough without being involved in the meaty part of Vaysey's doings.

Soon there was more silver expected from Locksley and the other holdings around Nottingham. The nobles all had to pay. Prince John would take the treasure with him when he came to inspect the sheriff's progress with the outlaw problem.

The thought reminded Vaysey that he had not yet decided how to present his success to the prince. Would the prince believe it, would it please him to know that he had made a deal with the now-former outlaw? Or would he expect that option which Vaysey would have both expected and preferred, that Hood would be presented as a captive, ready to hang for the prince's pleasure?

One thing the prince certainly mustn't learn was that the robbing hadn't ended. No silver had been taken anymore, but the storages of the castle had been robbed more than once. Witnesses had laid blame on the Nightwatchman, that man who had also helped Gisborne escape, attacking Vaysey. It seemed the man was in league with Gisborne now, an odd turn of events. Of course, earlier he had been in league with Hood, so it was obviously a good idea to ask Locksley to stop his ally from robbing the sheriff's storages.

Vaysey turned on his heels, now making his way to the chamber where he would meet the very man now. Locksley had agreed to meet him today and the sheriff had plenty of issues to talk about. Once he was there, he settled down in his favourite chair, signalling a servant to fill a goblet. Taking the cup from the man he sipped some of the sweet wine, preparing himself for the confrontation that was to come.

Locksley wasn't late. He strode into the room as confident as usual. He had his Saracen sword hefted to his side, but didn't carry as bow and quiver, as Vaysey noticed. The sheriff hadn't a seat for Locksley readied, but Robin didn't hesitate to just pull up a chair Vaysey had used at other occasions.

"Welcome," Vaysey said lazily.

"Vaysey," Robin returned as somewhat of a greeting, sitting down.

"So how is Locksley? Are all the little peasants happy?" Vaysey smiled.

Robin raised his eyebrows. "I guess you don't want to waste both our times."

"I can't fathom what you mean," Vaysey smirked. "But if you don't want to discuss this, then let us discuss my safety. Any brilliant ideas how to protect me from the likes of Gisborne?"

"Do you think it would help if I stayed by your side at all times, would that keep Gisborne away?" Robin returned. "Or maybe you tell me why Gisborne would want to kill you. It would be easier to stop him if I knew his motive."

"Would it?" Vaysey wasn't keen on telling Robin that Prince John had offered his post to Gisborne if the man managed to kill him. At the end, Robin might be tempted to help the man to get rid of him. And it would be of great disadvantage if Robin even knew that Prince John was ready to have him replaced.

"Yes," Robin emphasized. Vaysey decided the closest truth would be the best here.

"Well, I think he wants to be sheriff," he said as if it was a hardly important point.

"But as you said, Prince John threatened to destroy Nottingham should anything happen to you. How could Gisborne be sheriff then?"

Vaysey smirked. "We both know that Gisborne isn't the cleverest boy." He was sure that Robin would only too readily agree there.

"And what about Prince John," Locksley suddenly changed the topic. "I heard he comes to Nottingham soon?"

Vaysey didn't know how Hood had learned of that, but then the man had often had knowledge he shouldn't have had. "Yes," he confirmed testily. "He will arrive here in a few days." He took a sip of his wine. "And come to talk of it, Prince John is naturally very concerned about his dear brother the king, and we want to assure him that both you and I will be working together hard to bring the king home, don't we?" It wasn't exactly what the prince needed to see, but how he would manage to show that Hood wasn't a problem anymore he could think about later, for a decision needed to be made there.

"If you think so," Robin said, appearing thoughtful. Naturally, he didn't believe Vaysey, but was surely wondering what the man was up to, and rightfully so. Vaysey wondered if Robin would ever pull back from the deal they had. Would he decide to go back to the forest? Would he condemn his outlaw friends to do the same? Would he risk the leper's life, now that the sheriff knew all too well that they were in league with each other? And not to forget, would Locksley throw away the chance to take care again of his pesky peasants?

The conversation did not turn much more fruitful and Vaysey was soon tired of it. At the end of the day, he wouldn't make decisions together with Robin anyway, but about Robin – without the man's knowledge and consultation, naturally. He could decide how to handle the situation with the prince.

When Robin finally got up to leave, Vaysey waited until he was almost out of the chamber, before he called after him, "Oh, one more thing: Please tell your friend the Nightwatchman to stop robbing my storages. That would be most helpful."

Robin neither turned around nor stopped in his tracks, but left the room without another word.


	25. Letters

**A/N: Thanks as always to Emmithar for the beta and for her inspiration!**

* * *

**Chapter 25: Letters**

Robin watched as Marian put the letter into the man's hand, talking briefly to him, before the man climbed his horse and departed. Marian put much hope into that letter, hope of gaining information they needed desperately. Still, any reply might take months.

Marian had gained the agreement of a distant relative of hers to send the letter on, the man having commercial contacts that would sail to the continent in a few days' time. When Marian had written to him, explaining her personal situation, the man had also offered Marian to come to live with that part of the family, the offer being made due to family obligations Marian had guessed. She had declined.

Now she hoped the letter she had penned to one Count Friedrich would reach the man in Bavaria, and he would be able to use his contacts as a noble to find out more about the situation of King Richard in Austria – if he not already knew everything about it.

Marian turned to Robin and he nodded towards her, before he walked off, figuring he could just as well do what he had postponed for days. He walked through the village of Locksley, finally leaving the houses that were closest to the forest behind and getting deeper into the woods. Picking a tree at random, he reached for the piece of chalk he had brought with him, marking an area on the wood.

Stepping away from the tree, he took down the bow and quiver he had carried on his back. Now he would try his bow for the first time since he had suffered the injury. It was healed in the sense that it did not hurt anymore, and Djaq had been satisfied when inspecting his hand several days earlier. But Robin could see the scars where the jailer had cut him more than clearly. They were a very marked memory of what had nearly been lost.

Robin prided himself of being a great archer, it was what had made him useful at war, and it was what had saved him and others often here in Nottinghamshire, not the least of it the day when he had been able to stop the hangings in Nottingham, making himself an outlaw. If he wouldn't be able to shoot as well, it wouldn't be the same. The gang wouldn't be able to trust in him as much as they did now. Of course, there was wonder if the time of fighting was over, what with the deal Robin had with the sheriff; but actually he doubted this was the case.

Robin took an arrow from his quiver, carefully aiming it and drawing the bow. He noticed a slight tremble in his hand and it felt awkward the way his fingers were gripping bow and arrow. Robin let go and the arrow sailed into the ground, several feet before the tree that was his target. He sighed, telling himself this was just the first awkward attempt. He simply had to practise again. He kneaded his hand, his fingers feeling rough and inflexible to his touch. It wasn't the same. Robin chose another arrow, carefully aiming the bow and drawing the string. He focused on keeping the arrow at the right position, felt himself stiffen and let out a breath, his fingers losing their grip. The arrow shot ahead, hitting the tree trunk, but far below Robin's target.

He could feel anger at himself rising in him. In past times he had been able to aim even more than one arrow at once, so why was he making such a big issue out of a single one now? He picked out a third arrow. He remembered that hour down in the dungeons when the jailer had wanted to end his days of archery once and for all, when he had fought against it, when he had flinched away from the pain that would take so much, when in desperation he had clung to the hope that he might be able to learn to draw a bow with his left hand, too. And now he did not even manage to do this the way he had done nearly all of his life, ever since he had been a small boy? The way he had done it so many, many times?

He drew the bow, aiming the new arrow as he did so. He tried to steady his breath, feeling the string cutting into his skin ever so slightly, just as it was supposed to be, but the feeling reminded him too of the knife that had been set there, the blood that had come – by far not the worst injury he had ever suffered, but one that had not come of fighting, but of torture, not even one of aiming to gain any knowledge, but one of simply wanting to destroy him. His hand shook and once again the arrow sailed away, missing its target. Gritting his teeth, Robin walked ahead to pick up all three arrows that had missed so far. Taking a few steadying breaths, he aimed all three arrows at once, remembering Much's annoyance whenever he had practised that trick. Letting the string go, he saw all of them fly away, missing their target by far.

As he trained another arrow, Robin heard a call. He turned, lowering the bow.

"Robin," Much called. He came up to the man. "A message from Nottingham. Prince John is on his way."

Robin nodded.

"The sheriff wants you there?" Much clarified.

He nodded again. "Yeah." Not that he really knew how everything would play out to be.

Much gave a nod. "I'm coming, too, of course."

Robin didn't say anything but packed his arrows, following Much through the forest back to Locksley. There was the possibility that Vaysey had laid a trap. It had been there from the very beginning, ever since they had made that deal. Naturally, if it had simply been about delivering Robin to Prince John, Vaysey could simply have kept him prisoner, that much had already been achieved. Unless Robin would have died in the dungeons that was, but that might have satisfied Prince John just the same. No, it had also been about the silver. Vaysey had wanted that back, needed it back even more so, Robin guessed. He - and the gang reluctantly so - had handed that over to Vaysey. Supposedly Vaysey had also been concerned about Gisborne. But the man had not appeared to be a real threat so far, in Robin's mind. He hadn't even seen him ever since he walked away from the barn in Locksley that day when he and Marian had brought him from Nottingham.

So if that had been every reason for Vaysey to make that deal, it was not unlikely he would end it now, capturing Robin once more on the occasion of Prince John's visit – a triumph. The last time they had met, Robin had told Vaysey that he would be there for Prince John's visit, had also said that he was willing to keep up that deal if the sheriff did so, too. In Robin's idea, he would be there, would greet Prince John in a somewhat agreeable manner as a noble not having sworn allegiance to the man would do, would go back to Locksley then and continue taking care of the village, including paying the taxes that were due to be collected for the king's ransom.

As Much and Robin came back to Locksley, the gang was already waiting for them by the manor. They would come to Nottingham, too, John, Will and Djaq. They had still been staying at camp, no matter that Robin had invited them to come to Locksley, an invitation he had expected especially Will would like to follow, the village being his home.

"Robin," Djaq nodded to him.

"So we are going to Nottingham today," Robin stated what he knew the others already were aware of. "I don't know what's going to happen. We cannot trust the sheriff."

Will gave a nod. "We know, Robin." Robin could see that they were well prepared, each of them carrying a bow, too, besides their sword or axe. How they would be able to take the weapons into Nottingham with the prince due to arrive, was another question. Robin wondered if part of the reason they still stayed at camp was that they expected to go back there soon in any way. If all of them, including Robin, had to flee back to the forest, it would be ready for them still.

"Then let's go to Nottingham and make sure we return."

There were more guards up and about in Nottingham than Robin had seen in a long time. Some of them carried banners of John, so the man was either already here or had sent men ahead. Robin guessed the latter, for he expected the prince to make a great entrance.

Vaysey was waiting for Robin when he walked up the steps to the castle. Robin had brought both his sword and his bow. It might appear as an affront to be armed like that, but Robin wanted to be prepared, no matter that he didn't know if he would be able to shoot.

"Ready to go to war again, Locksley?" Vaysey scoffed with a look at Robin's weapons, but grinned then at his own joke.

"Sheriff," Robin nodded once in a hint of a greeting.

"Prince John will arrive soon," Vaysey said. "I am sure you are aware of the necessary deference."

"I am," Robin replied simply. He would be polite. What he certainly wouldn't do was to treat the prince as if he were the king.

More and more guards were collecting in the castle yard, as were people of the town further outside of the yard and beyond it. Robin could see the gang – apart from Much – at the far distance. Much was standing not far from Robin to the side, paying close attention to his former master, the sheriff and the guards.

Finally there were new sounds coming from the northern part of the town and a procession made its way towards the castle, a grand carriage in the middle of it. Robin scoffed at what he saw, for no matter that he was resolved to not treat the prince like a king, the prince was doing that just fine for himself. Multiple banners carried by decorated riders told of his arrival.

The procession stopped on the castle yard and the guards stepped aside, as the door of the carriage was opened. It still took some time before Prince John finally appeared outside. Then he stepped out of the carriage, slowly looking around. Guards bowed and still Prince John stood fixed to the spot. It was obviously expected that he he would walk up towards the castle and be greeted by the sheriff, but the prince didn't move.

Finally the sheriff, already looking around nervously, moved forward and down the steps of the castle, some of the present nobles following him. Robin stayed put for the moment. This might become an interesting afternoon.

* * *

Vaysey stopped in front of Prince John.

"My dear Sheriff," John said with a broad smile, spreading his arms wide. "It is so good to see you."

"My Lord," Vaysey returned. "It is a honour to have you here." Vaysey managed to sound somewhat enthusiastic about the idea, knowing that not only the prince, but his entourage were hearing him, too.

He had already lost the prince's attention though, as the man was now setting his gaze upon Robin. "This is Robin of Locksley, is it not?" he asked, as he watched the man with something of a bored curiosity.

"Yes," Vaysey replied testily.

"The infamous outlaw Robin Hood, the one who gave you so much trouble?"

"Yes," Vaysey repeated. He wondered unnerved if this was to be an interrogation. If the prince wanted to be rid of him, this whole charade was unnecessary.

"Explain to me then," the prince went on, "why he is here now? Or maybe I should ask him myself?"

Vaysey grimaced. "You told me to get the outlaw problem under control and I did."

John laughed. "When I said 'under control' I thought of different kinds of action. His head on a spike maybe, or him ready for hanging, or presented in the stocks at the least?"

"None of this would have returned the silver the outlaws had taken," Vaysey explained, his patience thin as ice in the spring. If only the prince knew how much Vaysey would have liked to implement any of the suggested measures.

"Ah, yes, I remember your failure there," John said sardonically.

"I got the silver back," the sheriff pointed out.

"By reinstating Locksley?" the prince scoffed. "And what about the new taxes? You know we need them for my dear brother."

Vaysey knew that John wanted those taxes indeed for the purpose of dealing with his brother, but not in order to bring him home, but to pay a price for keeping him captive for a longer time. Vaysey was bitter about John's reaction so far, but at least the prince had not indicated a displeasure so great to have him replaced. Well, not since that letter he had sent to Gisborne, telling him to kill Vaysey to win the position as the new sheriff.

"The new taxes are being raised and we expect to receive the silver very soon," Vaysey said.

"I'm sure of it," the prince smiled, and the sheriff did not know what to make of it.

John glanced at Robin again. "Now tell me, where is your Master-at-arms?"

"I don't have one at the moment. I lost my last one and haven't found the muse yet to find a new one." It made him wonder if the prince expected him to know of the deadly offer he had made to Gisborne.

John looked at him and once again the sheriff couldn't really make out the man. "Find a new one. Or do you want the castle and our treasure unprotected?"

"Of course not."

"I'm glad," John smiled again.

* * *

Robin watched the sheriff talking to the prince and wished he could hear what was said, though he doubted it were secrets that were talked about with all of the guards and the prince's followers around. After a while of conversation, which seemed to have amused the prince, he finally moved to walk up the steps of the castle. It wasn't really a surprise that he stopped in front of Robin, and Robin was sure that part of the conversation between the prince and the sheriff had been about him.

"Robin of Locksley," the prince said, emphasizing the words.

"My Lord," Robin replied.

"I hear you were quite my dear brother's favourite in his war out there?" John mused. "And then you run off into the forest?"

Robin lifted his eyebrows. He wasn't inclined to reply to that, but it was not necessary as the prince continued.

"So now you have stopped your criminal ways and want to support my brother again?"

"I have been supporting him at all times," Robin said clearly.

"Oh, but were not those little peasants more important to you? Is that forgotten now?"

"These things don't exclude one another," Robin returned.

"I'm sure," John smiled.

"What about you," Robin asked. "Are you supporting the king?" The other nobles that were present in front of the castle stared at Robin in outrage and shock. But Robin would really have liked to hear an honest answer to that question. Taxes were rising still, but he could not be sure they were really going to be used to pay the ransom for the king's freedom.

John smirked. "Of course I am." After a pause he added, "And I can see now why you've run off to the forest, what with that tongue of yours."

He turned away from Robin then and walked off to speak to the other nobles. Robin didn't mind. Talking to that man would not answer his questions. When the assembled men made their way into the castle, Robin followed at a slow pace, seeing that Much was coming up to him.

"Have you seen Marian?" he asked him. She could have been with the assembled nobles, technically taking over the title from her father, no matter that her home in Knighton lay in ashes, but she hadn't been there.

"Well, not _her_ really," Much said, glancing around nervously. "But kind of her."

Robin frowned before he understood. Whispering he asked, "The Nightwatchman is here?" What on earth was Marian doing now, what did she want to achieve? And why had she not told him?

Much nodded.

"Where?"

"Going up to the sheriff's quarters," Much replied quickly.

Robin cursed. Of course now was the time when she could know that the sheriff would not be there, as he was busy entertaining the prince in the Great Hall, but still this did not mean that it would be easy getting in there unseen, and even more so out of there, especially with the whole town as full of guards as it was.

"Much, go and get the others here. Wait here and see if she's coming, so you can help, if need be."

"What about you?" Much asked. "No, don't answer this. I know you are going after her. Why does it always have to be like that?"

Robin patted Much's shoulder briefly, then left the man behind as he hurried into the castle, first trying to blend in with the guests, before he took a turn that led away from the festivities, deeper into the castle, closer to the sheriff's chambers. He wondered if the sheriff would miss him in the Great Hall or if the man was too distracted by the prince to even notice Robin was gone. Today his simple presence in the castle would not be questioned, but his whereabouts in the sheriff's rooms certainly would. He took the old, familiar way up there, climbing into the sheriff's bedroom easily.

He saw the Nightwatchman jump and turn around to him as he arrived. She had apparently not expected anyone coming in through the window.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered fiercely through the mask she was wearing.

"Could ask you the same," he returned.

"Very funny," she said, turning back to her earlier task. He saw that she was going through the many documents the sheriff had stored in the room. Leafing through several more, she read a few sentences of each, before continuing.

"Found anything?"

"Nothing really. Taxes, silver, the king, the prince, outlaws, but nothing we didn't know before," she replied. "What I really want to know is why Vaysey thinks Guy wants to kill him. There has to be something Guy wants to achieve by that, but as far as we know the sheriff is protected and Nottingham doomed, if he dies."

Robin nodded, helping her leaf through the papers. "Have you seen anything that tells us where the taxes are going? If it's going to the ransom the king's mother is collecting or if it's going to the prince?"

Marian shook her head. "Nothing of that sort." Then she suddenly picked up a letter that bore the prince's seal, but that wasn't addressed to the sheriff, unlike the others. It was Gisborne's name that was written on it. Marian held it up, looking at Robin. "Why is that here?"

"Read it."

Marian hastily unfolded the paper. She looked at Robin then, holding out the paper for him to read it, too.

"The prince offers Guy the position of sheriff if he kills Vaysey, because Vaysey failed to solve the outlaw problem," she summarised.

"Now that's interesting," Robin said. "Now I understand why Vaysey's so worried about Gisborne."

"And so keen to solve the trouble with you," Marian pointed out.

"If it had been just that, he could have killed me down in the dungeons," Robin shook his head.

"Your men still would have made trouble for him and he wouldn't have gotten the silver back. It would have been easy for Gisborne to claim his position," Marian contradicted him.

"And," they both turned at the voice from the doorway, Guy stepping into the room, "Are you talking about me?"


	26. Changes

**A/N: Coming close to the ending now! Thanks to Emmithar for the beta!**

* * *

**Chapter 26: Changes**

Gisborne had been at the castle yard, mixed in with all of the guards and onlookers as the prince arrived. He had wanted to see for himself what was going on. He had also seen Robin, reinstated noble on the steps of the castle and it had stung. It should have been him standing there as the Master-at-arms, greeting the prince.

When the sheriff, the prince and the nobles had finally moved into the castle, Gisborne had followed. He had planned to go to the Great Hall with them, but then he had seen that Hood had not gone that way. Instead he had slipped away, had taken a corridor that led the opposite direction. Guy was intrigued, knowing that Hood was up to something that the sheriff would not like. So much for upholding the law, now that he had been pardoned.

Gisborne followed the man and it was only because he had to take care not to be recognized in the castle, for the sheriff probably still wanted him dead - all thanks to Hood - that he lost sight of the man. It took little thinking though that made him realise the former outlaw was headed for the sheriff's quarters, taking opportunity of the fact that the sheriff was busy elsewhere. Once he reached Vaysey's chambers, Guy had to knock out a guard. If Hood was to be blamed for that later, only the better.

To his surprise he could then hear voices coming from the sheriff's bedroom. He had seen Hood coming up here alone, so who was he with now? A few more moments and Guy recognized Marian's voice and the realisation was bitter, that she was here again working with Robin, both of them breaking into the sheriff's rooms. Slowly moving forward he tried to hear what they were saying and he could hear his name being mentioned.

Taking a few quick strides into the bedroom, he saw them there, Marian in her Nightwatchman disguise, standing over plenty of documents. "And, are you talking about me?" He knew they were, though he had not heard what about it had been, but the surprise in their faces was worth his entry.

Nevertheless, it took just a moment for them to realise that he was not more of a danger to them than they were to him, as he did not hold the power anymore to call the guards upon them.

"Guy," Marian said then.

"So, this is what our newly reinstated lord is doing?" Guy scoffed.

"None of your business, Gisborne," Robin returned. "Or do you suddenly want to work with us, so that you would need to know the details of what we are doing?"

"Robin," Marian urged him.

"Maybe I just go down there and call the guards after all, what do you think?" Gisborne said. "It might prove to move me into a more favourable light for the sheriff."

Robin grimaced. "The sheriff wants you dead."

"Thanks to you, Hood."

"No," Marian said.

Ignoring her, Gisborne continued, "And even if does not help me, it will harm you and that's good enough for me." Maybe Hood would be caught again, would lose all of which he had regained, would finally hang, maybe more for the prince's pleasure...

"Guy, listen to me. It's not about Robin," Marian insisted and Robin looked at her sharply.

"Marian, don't-"

"The sheriff wants you dead because the prince offers you his position, if you kill him."

Guy was dumbstruck, not having expected anything like that. "Do you have proof for that?" he asked after a few moments. Although Robin looked at her darkly, Marian handed Guy a letter and to his surprise he could see his name on the address. Why had he never read that? And then he remembered the letter he had received when he had still been Master-at-arms, the letter he had thrown aside for a later time because he had been distracted by the trouble with Marian and her father.

Guy unfolded the parchment properly and read, seeing that what Marian had said was true. The prince offered the position of sheriff to him, if he were to kill the old one, who had failed to get the outlaw problem under control, special consideration to Hood. If this letter was here in Vaysey's quarters, it meant the man knew about that offer and it explained why he wanted him dead, why he had even turned to Hood to protect himself, this way managing to get a hold on Hood with promises of better times for the outlaws and a hope of protecting himself from Gisborne.

Guy smiled. What if the offer was still valid, and he went down there now and did the deed? If he had felt even a little pang of conscience at the thought of killing his former mentor, then it was long gone, ever since the man tried to have him killed.

"What do you make of it?" Marian asked him then. "You're not really going to kill him, are you?"

Gisborne looked at her, but did not reply. He had to keep his plans to himself, no matter that these two knew of the offer, too.

"Well," Robin said, "I'm not going to stick around here any longer till Gisborne has figured out what to do. Let's go," he told Marian, and she frowned at that.

"We can work together; have the sheriff replaced..." she said.

"And then?" Robin scoffed. "You think all will be well when Gisborne is sheriff?"

"I-" Marian started, but didn't finish her sentence, when sounds of alerted guards could be heard in the corridor where Gisborne had come from.

"We're leaving," Robin decided. Marian nodded and moved ahead to leave through the chamber's window, followed by Hood. Gisborne had turned at the sounds of the approaching guards, wondering what he himself would do.

"You're not going to get away forever, Hood," he called after the man, knowing it was in vain.

Grabbing his sword, he turned towards the sound of the guards, hiding behind the door of the chamber. He needed to fight his way out, not willing to climb our after Hood. He probably should try to kill as little as possible, as it wouldn't win him favour with the guards later once he was sheriff, if he had killed too many of their comrades.

Minutes later he stepped into the Great Hall where the festivities in honour of Prince John were still ongoing.

* * *

John had not minded staying at camp. He had been living in the woods for so long that even the camp Will had built for the gang had come as a vast improvement. And as John did not believe that the deal between the sheriff and Robin would hold for very long, he had preferred to stay at their camp. Robin might believe different, though he was not certain what Robin exactly believed, but John thought that the deal could not hold up, simply because Robin would not just keep doing what the sheriff wanted.

It had been different at camp, only three outlaws left there. Allan was gone, living somewhere in Nottingham now, as Will had told them. Robin and Much were staying in Locksley. So it had been just John, Will and Djaq. It had been quiet and peaceful, what with them not having to fight any fights at the moment, not having to rescue anyone.

Now they were in Nottingham again and John was certain the time of quiet was over. He had seen the spectacle of the prince, of the sheriff, of the nobles, all of them now having left for the Great Hall inside the castle, while most of the town's people, the guards and other visitors were standing outside still. Robin had left, leaving Much behind to find John, Will and Djaq, and now the four of them were watching what was going on, though they had little opportunity to know what was happening inside, unless they were to sneak in. So far they were just standing there, waiting.

"Look, there is Allan," Djaq said suddenly and John turned to see where she was pointing at. Allan was strolling over the castle yard, not taking a straight line, but clearly heading into the direction of the castle nevertheless.

"What is he doing?" Will wondered.

John didn't know an answer. For all he had been told, Allan was working, in a way, at the local inn, mostly by collecting coins for stories, maybe yet through other means, too.

Allan then took a few quick steps and moved into the castle.

"Let's move," John decided. If the happenings were going to be inside, then that was where they would have to go. This decision proved only more true, when they were about to enter the castle through a lower entrance, intending to make their way through the kitchens instead of the main corridors. From an upper corridor the Nightwatchman was coming down, closely followed by Robin, and about the same moment, the noise of guards approaching could be heard in the hallway.

"Robin," Will called.

Robin turned to see them coming into the hallway. "Gisborne's here. He's after the sheriff."

"Why? What is going on?" Will wondered, but Robin turned to Marian.

"I have to go back to the Great Hall."

"I'll join you there, once I've changed out of this," she said, indicating her disguise, before she moved on into the shadows, a wise decision with the guards coming up to them, turning the corner now.

"You lot, what are you doing here?" the first of them said.

"These are my men and they are here because I am here for the prince's visit," Robin pointed out and the guards seemed briefly confused as to why this should be an explanation, until they seemed to come to the realisation that Robin was actually rightfully there, this time.

"The festivities are this direction," another guard told them helpfully.

"We're going there now," Robin said and waved John, Much, Will and Djaq to follow him to the Great Hall.

When John came into the hall, he saw that Prince John had been seated in the centre of the room, the sheriff sitting beside him, the nobles in a circle around them.

"Ah, Locksley," the prince said, as Robin appeared, "We've already missed you. Did you misbehave while you were gone?" he added.

Little John didn't actually know what Robin had been up to, but the fact that he had been in company of Marian in her Nightwatchman disguise told him that it had probably been nothing that would be to the sheriff's or the prince's liking.

"What did I miss?" Robin asked unruffled, as he seated himself on the one empty place in the nobles' round.

Prince John smiled. "You missed a great many things, sadly," he said, "We want to raise a new tax, and that all in celebration of me being a guest in this town. Isn't that amazing?"

Little John saw Robin frown and it was no surprise. There had been several new taxes lately, supposedly to support the collection of the king's ransom. Another one wasn't going to do any good to the people.

"I don't think the people have anything left to pay," Robin said.

"Ah, I know, but we need to support the collection for the king, don't we?" John questioned.

Robin wanted to say something, but John lifted his hand, looking at the other side of the hall, where a door led in from the outer hallway.

"I see today's entertainment has arrived," he said.

Little John had no trouble looking over the heads of all the other assembled men to see the man standing there, Gisborne.

Gisborne strode up towards the nobles' seats, eyeing the sheriff, who jumped up.

"Guards!" he yelled, and several guards from around the hall sprung into action. "Stop that man!"

"No, no, no, no," Prince John intervened. "Leave the good man be." The guards stopped in their tracks, looking confused from sheriff to prince and back.

"You, you want me killed, my Lord!?" the sheriff asked incredulously.

"No, I just want a new sheriff. It's nothing against you personally," John promised him.

"Stop that man," Vaysey yelled again, as Gisborne calmly stopped by the nobles' chairs, taking out his sword. Vaysey took his own sword then, but he looked worried. "Hood, we have an agreement here, stop him!"

Robin looked surprised as to his request, having already risen from his seat earlier. Little John didn't know what Robin thought about the situation, but he couldn't imagine Robin would fight for the sheriff against Gisborne.

"Let's not make any rash decisions, Vaysey," Robin said.

"Gisborne," Prince John said, "Please remove the sheriff from my sight. And if you also get rid of those outlaws, I'd be very much in debt to you. Guards, help him."

"Lads, time for us to go," Robin called. At hearing the word, John remembered that they had been following Allan inside the castle, but the man was nowhere to be seen now.

All hell broke loose, as the guards moved. There was confusion if they were to apprehend the sheriff first, or take out Robin and the outlaws or were yet to stop Gisborne as Vaysey cried out orders. Robin sprung into action, too, brandishing his sword, the outlaws following his example.

"Just get out of here," Robin called over his shoulder as he was fighting a guard. As people crashed into each other, Robin fell backwards against John, and added, "Wouldn't mind checking out the prince's carriage on our way out."

Little John didn't have time to reply, as he was busy fighting off two guards, but he would try and do what Robin had planned. Overwhelming the guards, he ran towards the exit, seeing that Will and Djaq were already ahead of him.

As he reached the castle yard, the other two were busy fighting guards there, and John swung his stick in a wide angle to help them. Once her way was free of guards, Djaq jumped onto the prince's carriage, Will following her example moments later. John was still warding off guards, as the two unloaded several items from the carriage, carrying off what they could while still maintaining their ability to defend themselves.

As the three outlaws were ready to leave, they turned to the castle, but Robin and Much still had not come out of it.

* * *

Allan had been curious to see what was going on in the castle, what with the prince and all those nobles around. He had wondered if maybe anything of use would come up for him. The influx of income at the inn had diminished these last couple of days; it was still enough to pay for a few cups of ale here and there, but it wasn't much to Allan's liking. So maybe that meeting of those nobles at the castle would prove to be useful. And then he had to admit to himself that he also went there because of the considerable chance that he might get to see the gang. But naturally, that was only a small part of his reasons, he told himself.

He had sneaked around the hallways first, just looking around, before making his way into the Great Hall, trying to pass unnoticed for now.

The fight that broke out had caught him somewhat unprepared. He didn't really intent to join it and was planning to follow the example of the fleeing nobles. But seeing Much in a somewhat uncomfortable position with several guards charging at him, Allan couldn't quite stop himself from coming to his help.

The action took only a few moments, but Allan kept turning and fighting, tumbling into other another man, just as that one had been raising his sword to hack away at Gisborne. Allan swung his sword, hitting the man at the leg and saw then that it was the sheriff he had hit. The man turned, swearing at him, while Gisborne picked up the fight again, trying to regain the upper hand.

Allan wasn't sure if it were to turn out a wise decision to have cut the sheriff, and decided to leave now. On his way out he saw that Marian had entered the hall, too, apparently looking around for Robin, who was now fighting the prince's guards.

One of them managed to push Robin's sword out of his hand, the weapon sliding away on the wooden floor. Robin was in a precarious position now, but took off the bow from his back, nocking several arrows.

"Stop," he called out to the guards, "or you'll be very sorry."

Marian ran up towards him, picking up his sword, while Allan could see the sheriff scrambling out of the hall. The fighting stopped for the most part, everyone looking at the middle of the room.

Prince John clapped slowly. "Well done," he said. "Sir Guy of Gisborne, you are the new Sheriff of Nottingham!"

"Thank you, my Lord," Gisborne called, putting the point of his sword to the ground. "I accept this position and swear to apprehend all criminals and outlaws that threaten this town! This includes Robin Hood, whose pardon by the former sheriff I do not consider valid. He is still in league with the Nightwatchman, working against the laws of this shire." Smirking at Robin, he told the guards, "Get him!"

Robin let his arrows loose and Allan saw with confusion that none of them really hit anything that he would have aimed at, but still the guards ducked and Robin ran, Much on his heels.

Marian fought off a guard that blocked their way, and when all three of them exited the room, Allan turned, knowing that now was really the time to leave as well.


	27. Decisions

**Chapter 27: Decisions**

Much didn't like the running. He had never liked that part. He also didn't like that they were heading back to the forest now, already missing the bed and food at Locksley. But on the good side, at least all of them were going back, no one was caught or missing, all of them were coming, apart from Allan that was, but who would really miss that man?

They had stopped just for a moment in the castle yard to help Will, Djaq and John with the goods they had retrieved from Prince John's carriage, before heading off for the forest for good.

Much was relieved when they were there, and no guards were on their track anymore. The problem only started when Marian began to argue with Robin. Much wondered why it always had to be like that.

"It is madness to go back to the castle now!" Robin told her.

"I need to find out what's going on," Marian insisted. "Prince John is still there and-"

"Gisborne's going to have you hang."

"No, he isn't," she replied. "He wouldn't harm me."

"Well, apart from that time when he stabbed you," Robin pointed out. "And that's even beside the point, for he said right there today that he was to apprehend the Nightwatchman!"

"Yes, but he didn't mean it like that," Marian still continued the discussion.

Robin looked incredulous and Much could very well understand the sentiment. "How else do you think he meant that? Marian, you can't go back there now."

The odd thing was that Much was sure the more Robin would tell Marian to not go back to the castle, the more likely she would be to actually do so. They always were like that, he figured.

"Maybe we can go to camp and have some rest and some food and a good night's sleep and talk about it again?" Much suggested.

"And we can look at the things we took from the prince," Djaq reminded them.

Robin nodded, looking at Marian, who frowned, but continued walking into the direction of the camp then, the gang apparently having won the argument for now.

When they arrived there, Much could see that John, Will and Djaq had kept the camp well-stocked through the last few weeks, and he nodded appreciatively. The outlaws began going through the items taken from the prince's carriage. There were few valuables as such, but also tools that might come in handy later, as well as letters that Djaq had considered potentially useful. She, Marian and Robin were reading through them now, and Much was curious if they would contain any useful information. He hoped not, for that would probably only mean that Robin would go off on a crazy mission again.

"Prince John is sending a lot of letters," he commented, as the three were still reading.

"This is only the few he had in his luggage," Robin pointed out. "Anything about all the silver that's being collected?" he asked, looking at Djaq and Marian.

The latter shock her head, but Djaq started to read, "More than half the sum is collected for the devil to stay away." She looked at Robin. "What does that mean? It was sent from London."

Robin frowned. "It means John is collecting money for something and we probably would not like what for."

"So the king stays away?" Marian wondered.

"But who would they pay that to?" Much said. "Would they give someone money so he doesn't let the king come back?" After a moment he added, "Oh. Yes, I guess they would."

Robin nodded, too. "This is a problem," he said.

"Which we cannot solve unless we keep track of where the money is really going," Marian pointed out.

"No," Robin replied. "You're not going back to the castle."

"I have to," she insisted.

"Marian," Robin stood up from where he had been sitting, leaving the letters behind to reach for her arms. "Please, stay here."

"Then I'll go there at night," Marian said simply. "I can get into the sheriff's room, find out what Gisborne is up to-"

"Gisborne knows you are the Nightwatchman," Robin reminded her once more.

"That won't be a problem, if he doesn't catch me."

"Then why go in disguise at all?" Robin wondered. "You're less likely to raise an alarm with the guards if you don't."

"So you don't mind me going at all?" Marian raised her eyebrows.

Much decided that this discussion wasn't for him and stood up, walking over to the fireplace to start their meal, while the argument continued. He was still busy cooking, when Robin suddenly walked off, taking his bow and quiver.

"What is going on now?" Much wondered, looking at John, who shrugged, but looked into Marian's direction. "So you _are_ going back to the castle?"

"No," Marian said. "But the Nightwatchman will."

"Alright," Much nodded, turning back to his cooking. "Alright." Maybe Marian would yet change her mind, though he guessed until then a lot of arguing had to be done between her and Robin. Much wasn't actually sure who he wanted to win, but he figured Robin would feel better, if she stayed at the camp with them. Much decided he would prefer that.

* * *

Robin let the arrow loose and it flew away wildly, before hitting the ground. He had come here first because of his frustration about the fight with Marian. He feared she would not see it his way. And then there was nothing he could do, for she would always make her own decisions.

Gritting his teeth, he took another arrow, breathing in and out slowly as he set it in his bow. Drawing the string carefully, he focused on the tree in front of him again. He tried to ignore the stiffness of his fingers, keeping his mind on the bow, the arrow and the aim instead. He then let it loose and it flew straight ahead into the tree trunk, off the mark, but at least closer to it than any other arrow before.

"It will get better," Djaq said suddenly from behind him.

Robin turned to her. "My fingers are not doing what they used to."

"They need practise," she told him. "If a man has to stay in bed for many weeks and then tries to get up, his legs will not do what they used to do. But he learns to walk again."

Robin nodded, turning back to the tree to try another arrow.

"Robin," Djaq spoke again.

"Yes?" he asked as he aimed the arrow.

"Will you ever let Allan come back?" she asked him directly, not skirting the issue.

"The lads don't want him here," he replied, "Well, John and Will don't, because they agree he's a traitor. I don't know about Much." After a pause he added, "You want him to come back?"

"I do not know," Djaq admitted. "But he is a good man, I know that. He is lost and he has no other place to go."

Most of them didn't have another place, Robin thought, but didn't voice it. It certainly shouldn't be the only reason his men were with him; just because they had no other place to go.

"It actually seemed like he was trying his luck with Gisborne in Nottingham," he pointed out, remembering the fight at the castle, when Allan had even come to Gisborne's aid, no matter that it hadn't been quite clear if that had been very much on purpose.

"But he helped Much," Djaq reminded him, and Robin knew it was true, though that was no less than he would have expected of any man who he had once called a friend.

"He doesn't really seem to know what he wants. Be with us, fight the sheriff, Gisborne, or maybe just stick up for himself, join that lot even."

"Not all our decisions are easy and clear," Djaq said.

Of course Robin knew this to be true. It hadn't been an easy decision to make that deal with Vaysey, and he was still not sure it had been right. It had saved their lives, his and Marian's at that point, he figured, but else? There was new information he had gained, but apart from that they were not any closer to any real solution than before, the king still being in captivity and a new sheriff of Prince John's liking ruling in Nottingham now.

He didn't so much mind being back in the forest; it meant Locksley was abandoned again and that Gisborne would probably regain it for now, but still, it would not keep Robin from helping there and in other villages. As an outlaw he at least had not to take into consideration any odd agreements with the sheriff.

After he had sent a dozen more arrows flying, he noticed that Djaq had left.

* * *

Gisborne liked being sheriff. There were many things he had to deal with, not all of them pleasant, but finally it was him who held the power over those decisions, instead of just having to do the dirty work for someone else's decisions. The prince had left him with instructions when he departed, but the prince didn't care about what Gisborne did in the shire in detail. He only cared that new taxes would be collected accordingly and would safely reach his treasure in London. That this included that the outlaws - that Hood - had to be stopped, was a detail that was left to Gisborne to deal with.

Guy knew that the prince was trying to raise money to keep the king abroad by paying his jailer to keep him captive, unlike the king's mother who was actually collecting the ransom for her son. Guy did not mind the prince's plan. He himself did not have anything to gain from the king's safe return. In the best case, his alliance with the prince, with Vaysey even, might be questioned, but might be considered what a loyal man would do, following orders. In the worst case he might be considered a traitor, it might be revealed that he had once tried to kill the king in the Holy Land, he might lose his position and life; Hood might be reinstated by his beloved king and Guy would lose Locksley to him once again. No, Guy would be happy, if the king stayed away.

It was in the morning a week after he had been made sheriff, that he saw her again for the first time. Well, not her exactly, but that phantom, which she apparently still insisted to represent. He had not expected her to be here again so soon, for he had made himself clear; he was to apprehend all outlaws and criminals, including the Nightwatchman, and that had meant her. It had meant her, but still it was not certain that he was going to do anything, no matter that he kept reminding himself that she was working with Hood. It certainly was what she counted on.

It could be so easy. He could have her arrested and hanged, could conclude that part of his former life, no matter how much it hurt. It would be done and over with.

But as he watched the Nightwatchman sneak over the castle yard, he knew that was not what he wanted to do. But what else could he do? He could apprehend her, ask her to swear off on any of her doings with the outlaws, but would he be able to believe her, considering all the lies he had believed before? Would he really be able to believe a change of heart?

That man, Allan, who had been working with Hood before, had come to him, wanted to work for Guy now that he had no place with the outlaws anymore. Guy hadn't really cared either way. He didn't believe the man would be able to give any more worthwhile information, but maybe he would be useful at some point. So he had agreed and the man was now employed at the castle.

But what was he to do about Marian?

He let a few more moments pass, knowing her in a place where she could run, before he called, "Guards! The Nightwatchman! Get him!"

He didn't know what she wanted here this time, if it was simply a tour to sneak around the castle or if she was looking for something.

For a moment he wondered where she lived now, as he watched the guards stream onto the castle yard, the Nightwatchman already retreating.

She had no other home but the castle. Knighton Hall still lay in ashes, uncertain to ever be rebuilt, and Locksley could not be home to her either, now that Hood was back in the woods. Unless she agreed to marry Guy, but he had lost all hope for that, knowing she was with Hood.

"I have declared that I will apprehend all outlaws, including the Nightwatchman," Guy called over the yard as if as a reminder, unnecessarily. He had still not made it public that she was the disguised man. Vaysey had her hunted after her father's death, but he had never declared her outlaw, and Guy had not done so either. Yet.

Would she go against him again and again? Was she working with Hood still? It was likely. She probably even lived with Hood in the woods now, a sour taste appearing in Gisborne's mouth at the very thought. He knew she was with the man, maybe loved him even.

He could arrest her, keep her at the castle. He wouldn't have to hang her. No one would question the sheriff. And he was the sheriff now.

He saw the Nightwatchman vanish into the small alleys of the town, the guards now unlikely to catch her at all.

Guy sighed, closing his eyes. For now, this was it. Still, another solution had to be found, and he feared it would end in him having to apprehend her after all.

It was there where his personal life, the thing that was in his heart, was confronted with being a sheriff, that he would have the greatest trouble.

* * *

He found her a good distance away from camp. She had a bow with her and was testing it, aiming an arrow, but not letting it fly.

"Robin," she smiled at him, and he was relieved that their earlier fight seemed to be over.

"So is the Nightwatchman to be on the go again tonight?" he asked. He feared for her safety with Gisborne being in charge in Nottingham now. Vaysey had been dangerous, especially as he had detested Marian, but Gisborne was dangerous, too.

"Not tonight," she said.

"How long is Gisborne going to put up with what you're doing?" he asked. "I know you want to help, but the Nightwatchman's time is over, if the sheriff knows who he is..."

"So you want me to get another disguise?" she gave him half a smile.

"That's not what I meant," he shook his head. "If you want to help us, you have to work with us." At least then he would know what she was doing, and if something happened, he would know, too, and not have to wonder constantly if she was still safe or if Gisborne had decided after all to send her on her way to the gallows.

"There are some things I can do better on my own," she insisted, drawing the bow she held once again as if in confirmation of what she had said. She let the arrow fly this time, it hitting a tree some yards ahead.

"It's not worth risking your life for it, Marian."

"Look who's talking," she said.

Taking her into his arms, he asked, "Please take care." He kissed the top of her head.

"I'll take as much care as you do."

"That's not a very promising prospect," he grimaced, letting go of her.

Holding out the bow to him, she asked, "You want to try this one?"

He shrugged.

"It will get better," she said.

"That's what Djaq said," Robin nodded, taking the bow in his hand.

"Then listen at least to her, if you don't want to listen to me."

Robin drew the bow, carefully setting the arrow. "Then I'll best believe the both of you."

* * *

**A/N: That's it! Thanks to my beta Emmithar for sticking with me through this long story that took even longer to write.**

**I have a new fic coming up which continues the story. I'll post it in the course of the next two weeks (depending on how quickly I'm writing ;-) ).**

**Thanks for reading!**

_The Best Thing_

_Story summary:_

_As Robin and the gang discover a plot to kill the returning king, confusion is running about as to who is behind it, as Gisborne rules as new sheriff of Nottingham and seems to cooperate with old allies. When the king finally comes to Nottingham, the plot against him as well as his army's mistrust of Saracens, having fought them in the war, bring Djaq in grave danger. _


End file.
